Their Room
by aleximoon
Summary: This is a Draco/Hermione fic. Basically, they're forced together for a class project and things take off from there. It's awfully long. **FINISHED!!!!!**
1. Seating Arrangements

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling.  
  
***Okay, this is not a sequel to my R/H fic, or an alternate ending. This is a D/H fic. If you don't like D/H fics then don't read this. I happen to believe that Ron and Hermione are meant for each other; however, it is amusing to entertain other options. Harry and Ron don't play a very large part in this fic either, Hermione and Draco are the main characters, everything is from their point of view. So you have been warned... ;-) It also takes a long time to get to the romance part because you can't just stick Draco and Hermione together and expect them to fall madly in love right away. They need time, but I swear this fic will get there eventually. So with this being said.......  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"Good morning class, I hope that you all had a nice summer," Professor Vector smiled widely at her students. "As you can see our class is a little larger this year when compared to previous years. For some reason, there isn't a very high demand for Arithmancy among most of your classmates. I have no idea why," she grinned wryly at her class. "But since the numbers were so low, Headmaster Dumbledore has decided to combine all the houses together to have their Arithmancy lesson at the same time."  
  
Hermione sat at the front table smiling at Professor Vector, next to her sat Dean Thomas, they had worked together for the last two years. For the first time, Hermione actually noticed that the class was larger than it had been before, not much larger though. Dean and her were the only fifth year Gryffindors taking Arithmancy, they'd had it last year and the year before with the Ravenclaws while Hufflepuff and Slytherin were together on a separate day. But now that she looked around the classroom she was surprised to see Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchely, two Hufflepuffs. She could also see Blaise Zambini, a Slytherin, out of the corner of her eye. Hermione had to admit that it was still a small class. She turned her attention back to the Professor who was still talking.   
  
"I believe that you have all fallen into a rut of conformity and tradition. You all sit together, ready to work with the exact same people, your books are out and prepared, you even sit in the same seats as last year. You are young! You must seize life, you must experience new things, and I'm about to help you do it." She smiled at them again, ignoring their shocked faces.  
  
Hermione turned to Dean with an eyebrow raised; this wasn't the Professor Vector that she knew. This wasn't the same quiet; shy Professor that they'd had in previous years. What Hermione didn't know was that over the summer Professor Vector had experienced a little unpleasantness with a banshee. She returned to Hogwarts a changed woman longing for adventure, and she had decided to help her students experience life to it's fullest, whether they wanted to or not.  
  
"With this being said, I've decided to change some things around here. First off, all of your work will be done in pairs. We won't be using the books nearly as much as we have before. Arithmancy is a delightful and complicated magic, but you need to put it to use. So we will be having a more hands on year. I'm sure that we will all have fun." Professor Vector grinned triumphantly at their doubting faces.  
  
"Oh yes, one more thing, I'm assigning you new partners." Hannah and Justin looked petrified around the room, they were the only Hufflepuffs there, and they also happened to be a couple. Professor Vector saw their distraught faces and laughed.  
  
"Now, now Justin, Hannah, it won't harm either of you to spend a few hours apart." But from the looks on their faces, Hermione could tell that they greatly doubted this. "I've already broken you up into pairs that I believe will suit you all nicely." And with this the Professor pulled a list out of her book and started to read the new groupings.  
  
"Ms. Abbot and Mr. Boot"  
"Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Ms Perks"  
"Mr. Thomas and Ms. Broklehurst"  
  
Hermione sighed as Dean stood up and collected his things. He smiled at her before walking over to where Mandy Broklehurst, a Ravenclaw, was sitting. Hermione was sad to see him go, Dean was surprisingly good at Arithmancy, and they had worked very well together. She suddenly realized that almost everyone else had been paired up, had she missed her name?  
  
"Oh yes, Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy." Professor Vector folded up her list and turned to put it away.  
  
Hermione choked, Malfoy? "But Malfoy isn't even in this class, is he?" She wondered to herself. A sickening feeling was rising up inside of her, "He's not in this class, I heard wrong, he's not in this class," she repeated to herself. Slowly she turned around in her seat and sure enough, sitting in the last row was Draco Malfoy, glaring at her.  
  
"Pr...Professor Vector?" She called out in a shaky voice, Professor Vector turned to look at her, "Professor, I don't think that Malfoy and I can work together." The Professor raised her eyebrows in amazement; Hermione never questioned a teacher.  
  
"It's just that...that our views are so often...opposing." Hermione continued trying to give the professor a charming smile while that nauseous feeling swirled in her stomach.   
  
"Nonsense Ms. Granger, my two best Arithmancy students paired together, I can't wait to see what the two of you can do. And besides, opposites attract." Hermione blanched at her teacher's words. She couldn't believe her luck, her favorite class. She turned and looked over her shoulder at Malfoy, he was giving her a dark look. Finally he spoke.  
  
"Well," he drawled out, "I'm not coming to you Granger." Hermione sent him a cold glare before she started to gather her books. As she walked towards the back of the room Dean caught her eye and gave her a commiserating smile.  
  
"Yeah, like he has any idea," grumbled Hermione, "he gets to work with a Ravenclaw, I have to work with a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin." She thought angrily as she reached the table where Malfoy was sitting. With a deep sigh she placed her books as far from Malfoy as possibly. She pulled out a quill and started to diligently take notes. After a few minutes she was able to forget that she was sitting next to her most hated adversary, that is, until a strong breeze from the open window blew a roll of parchment across the table coming to rest against Malfoy's arm. Not paying any attention, Hermione reached out for it, accidentally brushing Malfoy with her fingertips as she took back the parchment.  
  
"Don't, touch me Mudblood," Malfoy hissed at her, moving farther down the table from her. Hermione looked up startled, with extreme dislike she glared at him.  
  
"Malfoy, the day that I willingly touch you is the day that you can stick a bow on my head and ship me off to Voldemort to become a Death Eater." She snapped at him angrily, putting the misbehaving parchment back into her bag.  
  
Draco was oddly impressed, not many people were brave enough to say the Dark Lord's name, he was sure that his father never said it if at all possible. He returned to his notes, his were almost as neat and orderly as Hermione's. Draco was beginning to get bored though; Professor Vector was now explaining something to that stupid Hufflepuff girl, something that Draco had figured out ages ago. Turning to look at Granger, he noticed that she too wasn't listening. "No time like the present to wreck some havoc," he thought with an evil grin.  
  
"So Granger, where are Potty and the Weasel?" Hermione didn't look up. "I wouldn't think that you'd be able to stand being separated from your boyfriend for a whole class period. Which one is it again? Or do they just trade you amongst themselves?" Draco was pleased to see that Hermione was starting to flush with anger. "Not that it's your fault, you might be a dirty Mudblood, but I can understand how neither Potty or the Weasel would be enough of a man for any girl, if you can call yourself a gi..."  
  
Before Malfoy could finish his sentence, Hermione had taken her Arithmancy book, which was four times larger than any of their other books, and soundly hit him in the shoulder with it. She hit him hard enough that Malfoy, who had certainly not expected an attack, was knocked right out of his chair.  
  
"Ms. Granger!" Professor Vector was staring at her, the book still clenched in her hands daring Malfoy to keep talking. Hermione was suddenly aware of all eyes upon her.  
  
"Umm...Professor, I'm so sorry, I slipped." Hermione started to count to ten under her breath as she put the book back down on the desk. Malfoy stood up, still rubbing his shoulder, and warily sat in his chair.  
  
"Yes, well we'll try to avoid that in the future. Right Ms. Granger?" Professor Vector asked.  
  
"Of course Professor, of course." Hermione gave her a sweet smile and tried to look innocent and turned once again to her notes. She kept her head down afraid that Professor Vector might notice the triumphant smile on her face. Dean certainly had, he turned and gave her a thumbs-up when Vector was looking away.   
  
Hermione and Malfoy sat silently for the rest of the class, pointedly ignoring each other, although Malfoy did keep a wary eye on her. Professor Vector passed out a few Arithmancy chart for their homework. Hermione was surprised, they were more detailed than any previous chart that she had done before, and it was also much longer.  
  
"Now don't be concerned class, I know this looks a little long, but you're supposed to be working with your partner now. I expect you to do this work together." Vector smiled at Hermione, obviously oblivious to the look of absolute disbelief that she was wearing.  
  
"How can she possibly expect me to work with that...that self-centered, egotistical, malicious, evil..." Hermione probably would have continued muttering expletives at Malfoy under her breath if he hadn't reached over and plucked the chart out of her hands. "Hey, give that back, that's my homework!" She reached out angrily for it.  
  
"It's my homework to you know," he snapped at her, "just let me do it."  
  
"Oh of course Malfoy, I'm going to entrust my grade to the likes of you! Give it to me, I'll do it!" Hermione again lunged forward and tried to pluck the parchments from his hands.  
  
"Yes, I'm dying to let my excellent grade rest in your ever so caring hands. There is no way that I'm going to let you do this." Malfoy stepped back dodging her hands as she grabbed for the charts.  
  
"Fine, we'll have to do it together then." She muttered.  
  
"Fine, we'll meet in the library," Malfoy agreed finally, spitting the words out as if they hurt him.  
  
"Fine, seven o'clock tonight." Hermione spat back, and then seeing her opportunity, swept for forward and snatched several of the charts back out of his hands. "And I'll just keep these with me until then." And before he could even react she had plunged them deep into her bag and slipped down out into the corridor to be lost amid the bustle of the students.  
  
  
  
***Please Read and Review!  
  



	2. The Library

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.... It's all Ms. Rowling  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Draco silently closed the door to the boy's dormitory behind him, he wanted to slam it shut, but all of his years in the Malfoy manner had taught him to act coolly and hide strong emotions. His father had always told him that showing emotions only gave someone a means to control you, Draco let a small frown creep onto his features as he thought about Lucius. As much as he disliked thinking about his father it was slightly better than the alternative at the moment.  
  
"That blasted Mudblood," Draco growled to no in particular since the room was empty.  
  
Walking to his four-poster in the corner of the low ceiling room he drew back his dark green curtains and laid down on his bed. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed, he let his body drift peacefully into the meditative state that Lucius had ground into him at an early age. According to Lucius, one must be centered in order to be powerful. Draco continued to let his mind delve over thoughts of his parents, he hadn't heard from them in several weeks, which was fine as far as he was concerned. His father had been busy with business associates, although Draco highly doubted that any business that his father might be conducting with that lot was legal. Draco gave a small scornful laugh as he thought of Lucius and his friends, those death eaters. Draco had worshiped his father as a child, but with the return of Voldemort, Draco had seen how weak his father was. Draco could really care less about the plight of Mudbloods or those stupid muggles. But to see his father prostrate himself to a man that had been reduced to a shattered wreck by a mere infant had made Draco sick. With the return of Voldemort, Lucius had talked of little else on the rare occasions when he came home. He had told Draco again and again how wonderful everything would be now that the Dark Lord had been returned to power. The Dark Lord, Lucius hadn't even been able to say his name. Draco had wondered how anyone that could invoke such terror from his own supporters could possibly be good for anybody. In his mind he could see the horrified expression of his father's face when he had told him that he had no intention of becoming a death eater, The horror had quickly turned to rage, Lucius had almost killed him that night, Draco had come back to Hogwarts a few days later without ever seeing his father, He could see in his mind the pale face, so similar to his own, suffused with anger. Draco could feel himself drifting slowly into sleep, the image of his father still infused on his mind when another, even more unwelcome visage appeared. An angry face surrounded by a cloud of bushy brown hair. Draco groaned and sat up.  
  
"Stupid Mudblood," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Draco couldn't believe that Professor Vector had paired him with one of Potter's merry sidekicks. He glanced at his watch, he would be leaving for dinner in a few minutes, and then he would have to go to the library and meet her. He made a face as he thought about the upcoming encounter. Draco wondered what Lucius would think if he found out that he was working with a Mudblood, Draco grinned to himself then, Lucius would be beside himself in fury, and that almost made working with Granger worthwhile.  
  
The dormitory door crashed open and Draco could hear heavy footsteps approaching his bed.  
  
"Draco, you there?" Pulling back his curtains, Draco looked into the dull faces of Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"It's time for dinner," Crabbe told him proudly, obviously impressed with his ability to tell time.  
  
Draco dug through his pile of textbooks until he found the Arithmancy book. Crabbe and Goyle looked surprised as he slipped it into his pack and then pulled it up onto his shoulder. Draco sighed and wished yet again for smarter companions.  
  
"I have to meet that Mudblood Granger in the library after dinner. We have to do our Arithmancy homework together." He told them this in a slow even voice, hoping that he wouldn't have to explain things to them.  
  
"Well why do you want to go do a thing like that?" Goyle asked despite Draco's silent prayer that they would actually be able to comprehend something.  
  
"It isn't as if I planned it, Professor Vector assigned us as partners, I don't have a choice. Now we had better hurry or we'll miss dinner." Draco switched topics quickly not really wanting to talk about Granger if he could help it.  
  
His ploy worked as Crabbe and Goyle's eyes lit up at the mention of food and the trio made their way out of the dorms and up to the great hall.  
  
  
  
Draco stood momentarily in front of the library doors. He studied their wood paneling then his eyes swept down, examining the large stone slabs that made up most of the floor in Hogwarts. He ruefully acknowledged that he had no real interest in the doors to the library. Draco felt a sliver of shame, Malfoy's did not stall, especially not when it came to insufferable Mudblood, All eyes in the library rose to watch him when he swung the doors open more forcefully than he had intended. The thick wooden doors banged into the stonewalls with a resounding thud that drew a furious look from Madame Pince  
  
Draco found Granger on the far side of the library hidden deep amongst the various shelves. She had obviously hoped that he wouldn't be able to find her, annoyance was plainly clear across her face. He gave her a sour look before pulling a chair back from the small table and sat down.  
  
"You're late," she said looking back down at the charts that she had already started on.  
  
"I would have been on time had you not wanted to find such a secluded spot for our rendezvous." Draco said calmly, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth  
  
"Do you really want people to see us working together?" She hissed at him.  
  
"Why should I care what other people think, you're the Mudblood, not me," Draco shuffled through the neat stack of charts on the table and began to work.  
  
Granger started to speak, but seemed to think better of it and returned to the chart that she had been working on. Silence followed for quite some time and Draco soon lost himself in the chart. Arithmancy had always come easy to him, figuring out the long charts and scrolls of numbers had always been oddly comforting to him, He believed that it was the order that they represented that he liked. So much of the magical world was ruled by chance and odd occurrences, but Arithmancy had rules and structure. Finishing the chart, he let a smile of triumphant cross his face. It had always pleased him that he was so good at something that most people found so hard, He looked up from the chart and his gray eyes met brown ones. Granger was still sitting across from him; the other Arithmancy chart lay finished in front of her. Granger had her arms crossed over her chest and she was watching him, studying him.  
  
"I know that I'm astonishingly handsome, but don't you have anything better to do with your time?" The smile left his face as he glared at her annoyed that she had been watching him surprised that he hadn't noticed, and rather put out that she had finished her chart first.  
  
"Have you always been so conceited? Does it just happen naturally or do you really have to work at it?" Her brown eyes hadn't left his yet and he was beginning to find her gaze rather disconcerting.  
  
"Actually I can be quite the gentleman when the mood takes me. That's very rare of course." Draco was smiling at her sardonically now, enjoying the way that she seemed to fidget when he smiled, he liked that he could make know-it-all Granger nervous. Draco continued to smile at her, now he was the one forcing eye contact, her deep brown eyes widened and Draco felt a strange tingle in the pit of his stomach. Surprised, he blinked his eyes and allowed Granger the time to look away.  
  
"Are you finished?" She asked, reaching for his chart. Her voice sounded slightly odd and her hand trembled ever so slightly as she picked up the chart.  
  
Lucius had trained Draco to watch people; he had always claimed that if you knew what to look for, you would never have need of a truth potion. Most people cannot hide their true emotions and fears he had always told Draco. But as Draco studied the girt, he found that he didn't know what she was thinking. After another moments pause, he began to check her chart, looking for some mistake, praying for some small mistake. There were none though, he handed back her chart unmarked, and he wasn't surprised when his own came back unmarked.  
  
'You didn't mess up Granger, congratulations." He told her.  
  
"Oh shut up Malfoy," She retorted as she shoved her Arithmancy book back into her sack. "We are going to be working together from now on, you could try to be a little less unpleasant."  
  
"You could try to brush your hair, but I won't hold my breath," He smugly began to gather up his belongings.  
  
"Oh go walk off a cliff Malfoy," Granger snapped at him as she struggled with the clasp on her bag.  
  
Without thinking Draco reached across the table and easily twisted the strap to one side and slipped the snap closed. Granger was staring at him in surprise. Draco himself was feeling rather surprised. Without a single word to her he turned and walked away.  
  
Draco walked out through the large library doors and found Crabbe and Goyle leaning against the wall across from him. They had been busy leering at a couple of first years that had nervously wandered by, but they snapped to attention when they noticed Draco.   
  
"What are you two doing here?" He asked them.  
  
"Well, we came to find you." Crabbe told him.  
  
"Well yes, obviously, I'm surprised that you even knew where the library was. But what do you want?" Draco responded.  
  
"I heard from a seventh year that the gamekeeper had some large crate arrive for him today. It was brought by a bunch of wizards too. He saw them carrying it around the lake in his Herbology class." Goyle was being much more informative than usual.  
  
"We thought that it would be funny to sneak out and see what's in the crate, don't you think it would be funny Draco?" Crabbe asked him.  
  
"Yes, actually, I think it could be very funny indeed." Draco felt someone's eyes upon him again and he turned to see Granger watching them from the doorway, He wondered what she had heard. It took Crabbe and Goyle a little longer to notice her, but when they did they started towards her menacingly. Granger just turned and walked away her head held high.  
  
  
**I hope you guys are liking this fic.... Please keep in mind that Draco and Hermione are not going to fall in love in the books, so if I have to bend them a little in this fic to make fit, please forgive me. Oh...... please read and review!  
  



	3. Into The Woods

**Disclaimer: And again...... I own nothing.... Everything belongs to Ms. Rowling. :)  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Hermione sat crankily at a table in the back of the Gryffindor common room; She was still trying to calm down after her meeting with Malfoy. "That self-centered prat," she muttered, crumpling up a piece of parchment with a fit of anger before realizing to late that it was her homework for Transfiguration. "Damn it," She grumbled as she tried to straighten out the sheet. The parchment was decidedly against flattening out though; with a deep groan she pulled out a new piece of parchment preparing to transcribe it all over again.  
  
"Stupid Malfoy," she muttered under her breath, she had been unable to get his cruel smirk out of her mind since she had left the library.  
  
She spent a few minutes writing, her mind wandered from Malfoy and happily immersed itself in her work. A cool breeze blew across the table from the near-by window, floating papers to the floor. As she pulled the window shut, something caught her eyes. Three figures were skirting the lake, dodging behind trees and rocks, heading towards the forbidden forest, towards Hagrid's hut. Hermione watched interestedly, wondering who they were. One figure, the leader, stopped and waited for the two larger ones. Hermione strained her eyes trying to catch some feature in the disappearing light. A shock of white blond hair got her attention, immediately she felt her blood start to boil.  
  
"Malfoy," she hissed, her fists clenching.  
  
If the leader was Malfoy there was no doubt about the other two, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione jumped to her feet, turning to get Harry and Ron, she suddenly remembered that they were at Quidditch practice. Ron had been so delighted to land the keeper position on the Gryffindor team. He and Harry spent a great deal of time practicing now. She glanced around the room looking for anyone that could help. The common room was empty save Neville Longbottom and a few first years.  
  
"Well, I'll have to stop them myself," Hermione muttered.  
  
She slipped quietly up to the boy's dorm, finding it empty; she went to Harry's trunk and dug out the invisibility cloak. "I'll go warn Hagrid. I'll be damned if I let Malfoy ruin another class for me!"  
  
Hermione darted back down to the common room and pushed through the portrait hole. Leaning into a dark alcove, she put the cloak on. Running as quietly as possible, she soon reached the main doors and was out on the grounds. Since she was invisible, she could cut right across the lawn instead of circling through the forest in order to stay hidden. She took a deep breath, pulling the cloak tighter, and began to run.  
  
Hermione reached Hagrid's hut only a few minutes before Malfoy, there was no sign of Hagrid, however. There was no answer when she knocked on the door. She realized that Hagrid must have gone down to Hogsmeade. Suddenly she heard something. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle could be seen peaking through the trees at the hut, Panicked, she looked for somewhere to hide. She was pressed up against the hut wall; there weren't any bushes near her. Malfoy carefully crept forward into the clearing. Hermione's eyes darted around her desperate for some place to escape to. Malfoy glanced right at her, and then away, he didn't seem to notice her. Hermione stared at him in complete shock. "Idiot!" she hissed softly, smacking her forehead with the palm of her head. Of course he didn't see her; she was invisible. Malfoy, however, paused and looked in her direction again, he seemed to have heard something. He walked towards her. She sank slowly to the ground as he leaned forward to look through the window into the hut. Hermione thought her heart had stopped as she looked up at him, his hand rested against the wall only a foot above her head. But Malfoy was unaware of her presence and he drew back from the wall. Turning to look at where Crabbe and Goyle were hiding, he called out to them.  
  
"That drunken oaf isn't home and he must have taken that brutish beast with him."  
  
Hermione realized that Malloy was right, Fang was nowhere to be seen, Crabbe and Goyle stepped tentatively into the open. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Malfoy headed towards the paddock. It was only then that Hermione saw that it wasn't empty.  
  
"Well would you look at that." Malfoy asked his voice seemed stunned,  
"The things that half-giant thinks he can get away with. Well we'll just have to show him what happens when someone keeps monsters for pets." His voice was completely emotionless. Crabbe and Goyle stood nervously behind him, not wanting to get any closer to the monster.  
  
Stifling a gasp, Hermione gazed at a cage sitting alone in the paddock. Inside the cage was a manticore. She had never seen one, but not surprisingly, she had read all about them. They were very rare, and by all accounts, this was a good thing since they were very dangerous. While never having seen one, it fit the description perfectly, the head of a man, the body of a lion, and the tail of a scorpion. "This one must be a girl," Hermione thought, the manticore had a female face, a young female face not much older than them. It was almost beautiful, if you could ignore the claws and the scorpion tail that hovered behind it's back. Almond shaped eyes gazed at them through the bars, it didn't move at all. With a shock, Hermione realized that it was looking at her as well, it must be able to see through invisibility cloaks, or maybe it had heard her when she first entered the clearing. Hermione was amazed that Hagrid had acquired a manticore. Hippogriffs and dragons were one thing, but a manticore was known to be not only highly intelligent possessing odd magical abilities, but they were also known to associate with dark forces. As Hermione made eye contact with it, a deep chill ran through her and she felt an intense need to get closer to it. With a gasp she pulled her eyes away and stared at the ground.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle were looking at each other warily; Crabbe finally seemed to get up the nerve to talk to Malfoy, "What does happen when you keep monsters as pets, Draco?"  
  
Malfoy didn't turn to look at them; his eyes hadn't left the manticore's since he had reached the paddock. "Sometimes they get loose," he whispered.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle seemed almost panic stricken, Goyle found his voice first though, "it wouldn't be a very good idea to let it out, right Draco? I'm sure that we can get rid of Hagrid some other way. It could hurt us, don't you think?" He seemed to be pleading with Malfoy, but the blonde boy didn't turn his head.  
  
  
"I don't think it will hurt us." Malfoy responded. Hermione stared at him in shack, was he crazy? Manticores were some of the most vicious creatures found in the wild, as she watched Malfoy climb over the fence she tried to remember everything that she had read about them. They were long thought to be the same thing as a sphinx, but more modern research had proven that sphinxes were not aligned with the forces of evil like the manticores were. A manticore had three rows of long vicious teeth, and the scorpion barb carried a lethal amount of poison, Luckily enough far them, this one was only a juvenile. The young manticore stood only four feet high when it was on all fours, a full-grown manticore could reach as high as ten feet.  
  
"Draco..." Crabbe and Goyle cautioned in unison as their leader placed a hand between the bars and touched the dark brown fur of the creature.  
  
"See," he drawled in a low, soothing voice, as much to the manticore as to Crabbe and Goyle. "I told you that it wouldn't hurt us."  
  
Hermione stared in horrified shock as Malfoy withdrew his hand and turned to the lock, a strange glint in his eyes. Pulling out his wand he whispered a single word  
  
"Alohomora!"  
  
Hermione watched with a horrible sinking feeling as the cage door swung open and Draco turned his back on the manticore to face Crabbe and Goyle. Both of them had taken several steps back, in a far distant part of her mind; Hermione was amazed at the astonishing level of intelligence that they were showing. What happened next went by so quickly that it was almost impossible to follow. One moment Malfoy was standing triumphantly in front of the cage door, the next moment the creature had come down upon him. Malfoy was knocked to the ground, his wand rolled out of his hand. The manticore bit deeply into his shoulder and lifted him up off the ground only to slam him back down again. Standing atop Malfoy it brought its long tail up above its head like a dagger and plunged it down into his thigh. Malfoy gave one quick cry filled with shock and pain but then there was only silence. Crabbe and Goyle looked at their prone hero and then turned and ran from the clearing leaving Malfoy to the beast.  
  
Hermione had bitten her lip to keep back a scream when the manticore had attacked. She watched in horror as Crabbe and Goyle ran away. She stood now, watching the monster with Malfoy. The seconds slowed as time stopped. A part of her whispered in the back of her mind, "Turn around and leave, walk away, save yourself. He would never save you if things were in reverse. He asked for this and now he's getting what he deserves." She shuddered hard as the voice died away. Hermione turned away preparing to run and then stopped, "No one deserves this," She said firmly as she raised her wand and her courage and cried out at it  
  
"Expelliarmus!"  
  
The manticore dropped Malfoy hard; it turned to bring its gaze to Hermione's. She trembled as the almond eyes seemed to look deep into her. She shouted another spell at it before she could lose her nerve.  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
The manticore didn't freeze however. The monster tensed its muscles preparing to leap. Hermione whimpered and tried to remember all the hexes that she had helped Harry learn the year before in preparation for all the triwizard tasks but nothing seemed useful. The manticore was lunging through the air, closer it came, the wind whipping its fur as it neared her.  
  
"Please...make...it...stop... Stupefy!' She screamed as hard as she could, the tip of her wand pointing straight at the beast's chest. It knocked her to the ground and distantly she could hear the sound of a sickening crack. She lay stunned underneath the hulking monster, waiting for the searing pain to come, but besides a distant throbbing in her wrist and chest, there was nothing, the beast lay still. Hermione gave out a shaky sob and pushed the creature away from her, it was terribly heavy, but she managed to get out from under it. Hermione figured later that she must have been suffering from sort of shock because she was overly concerned with making sure that Harry's cloak didn't get any blood on it. She carefully pulled it off and tucked it into her bag. She looked down at the manticore wondering how long it would stay unconscious. Hermione suddenly remembered Malfoy. She rushed to his side and fell to her knees besides him. Hermione shuddered as she looked at him, while not the squeamish type, the sight was almost too much to handle. The normally pale boy was almost devoid of color; only red remained. A large gash ran across his shoulder where he had been bitten and a deep hole was in his leg. Crimson blood was pooling around him, while an odd colored substance seemed to be thickening on his leg, Hermione figured that it was the poison. She desperately searched her bag for a handkerchief. She held it to his wound in hopes of staunching the flow.  
  
"Malfoy," she whispered, trying to wake him up. There was no response from the prone boy. However, she could tell that he was breathing.  
  
"Malfoy wake up!" she hissed, glancing behind her at the creature. It suddenly gave a disturbing jerk. She stared at it, terror beginning to build. She knew that the only reason why the spells had worked in the first place was because it had been surprised. It wouldn't be surprised when it woke up, it would only be angry. She wanted to run but she couldn't just leave Malfoy here to die.  
  
"Draco please..."she pleaded, tears coming to her eyes. She didn't want to see him die, no matter how much she hated him. This seemed to do the trick though as deep, gray eyes gazed up at her.  
  
"You said my name Granger," he whispered in a low voice. His eyes filled with sudden panic as things began to sink in. "The manticore," he cried sitting up.  
  
Hermione felt very relieved, and very hysterical, but she knew that now was not the time to get any more upset. "It's unconscious, but I don't know for how much longer," The manticore gave another jerk and emitted a strange guttural sound. Standing up, she turned to Malfoy and grabbed his hand. He couldn't put much weight on his wounded leg so Hermione let him put an arm around her shoulders and they hobbled quickly from the clearing.  
  
They were half way to the castle, moving as quickly as possible across the open expanse of green. Their pace was jolting; Malfoy was dripping blood and could barely walk. Hermione was becoming aware of the pain in her wrist, glancing down at it she realized that it was at a rather odd angle. More disturbing than her wrist though was a strange tightness in her chest. Her short breaths were becoming harder to draw. Despite all of these ailments, both of them were starting to get back their bad tempers.  
  
"You know Malfoy, I just saved your life, doesn't that mean that there is some sort at special bond between us?" Hermione asked, knowing perfectly well that the idea at a bond with a mudblood would drive Malfoy insane.  
  
"Shut up, if you dare mention this to anyone I will make to regret it." He hissed back at her through clenched teeth. He was having a very hard time concentrating on what he was saying; flashing pain was starting to fan up from his leg and into his chest.  
  
"You know Malfoy, you aren't nearly that threatening when you're bleeding to death." Hermione snapped back, feeling suddenly guilty when she remembered how she had almost let him die back there, She wondered briefly if he still might die, his wounds were very bad. The pain in her wrist was becoming almost unbearable, and as the shock wore off, she noticed that her chest was starting to have shooting pains as well. They reached the doors at Hogwarts and with their last ounce of strength they pushed them open. Staggering forward into the entrance hall they stopped, Malfoy was unable to go any farther, he let go of Hermione and sank to the ground, unable to move due to the poison. Hermione stood uncertainly for a moment, knowing that she needed to continue, knowing that she had to get Malfoy to the hospital wing. "It'll be my fault if he dies, I should have acted faster." She thought miserably as she swayed. A sudden light appeared at the top of the stairs.  
  
"What in the world, students out on the grounds at this time of nig..." The voice of Professor McGonagall tailed off as she came down the stairs. "Ms. Granger?!" She ran down the rest of the steps and over to Hermione. Hermione couldn't wait for her though, she sank down next to Malfoy, pain searing her body, it was becoming impossible to draw in a breath. She could hear Professor McGonagall yelling, but it was fading as darkness overcame her.  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please R/R... Oh yes.... On a side note, I'm sure that some of you have read Fantastic Beast & Where to Find Them, so some of my manticore stuff seems different. That's because when I wrote that segment I didn't have that book yet so I made it up. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. :)   



	4. The Curtain Between

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling..... I am just a lowly admirer.   
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"They're lucky to be alive Minerva," a hushed voice could be heard in the darkness.  
  
Draco groggily opened his eyes and then wished that he hadn't, With his eyes now opened, he was fully awake and he flinched as a wave of pain washed over him, Squeezing his eyes shut he sucked in a deep breath and willed the pain to go away. Lucius had trained him to ignore the affects of pain. After a few more deep breaths, the pain was far enough from his mind for him to open his eyes again.  
  
The room was dark; a few rays of moonlight were shining through the window. He was trying to remember what had happened to the curtains that he had around his four-poster when he realized that he was in the hospital wing.  
  
"The Headmaster has been notified?" the hushed voice whispered again, Draco knew that it was Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"Of course Poppy," a new voice, that of Professor McGonagall, answered her. "He went with Hagrid to catch that infernal thing. I imagine that he will be very interested in just what Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy were doing out there."  
  
"Why did they bring that wretched thing here anyway? I know that Hagrid has a soft spot for monsters but this is going a bit to far." Madame Pomfrey sounded rather vexed  
  
"There was little choice in the matter Poppy, they had to bring it someplace for safe keeping until it could be properly disposed of and Hagrid is the only one that could handle such an abomination." Professor McGonagall said softly.  
  
Draco could barely hear Professor McGonagall as her voice became more hushed, but at the mention of that beast, Draco started to remember the events that led him to the hospital wing. The walk out to the hut, the manticore, the attack, and something else, warm brown eyes filled with an emotion that he couldn't quite place. If Draco's father had been anyone other than Luciue Malfoy, he would have had no problems recognizing the emotion to be concern.  
  
"The Mudblood," he hissed. She had been there, but why? He remembered how she had ... what had she done? The pain was starting to fog his memory again, "She saved me," he remembered out loud. An odd warmth seemed to flash through him for a moment, but he dismissed it as simply being a side effect of all the pain.  
  
The voices had stopped and a sudden light shone across the bed. Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room, Professor McGonagall on her heels.  
  
"You shouldn't be awake Mr. Malfoy," the nurse said softly as she came to his side. "You must be quiet, I don't want you to wake up Ms. Granger."  
  
Draco carefully turned his head to look at the bed besides his. He found that moving caused a great deal of pain but years of experience let him hide it from the watchful eyes of the nurse, Sure enough, he could see Granger's bushy hair spread out on the pillow; framing her dead-white face.  
  
"What's wrong with Granger?" His voice sounded harsh as it passed from his cracked lips. He couldn't remember her getting hurt.  
  
"Ms Granger broke her wrist and suffered several broken ribs, one that punctured her lung." Madame Pomfrey's tone was trying to stay neutral.  
  
"Will she be all right?" Draco was just as shocked that such a question could come from him as Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were. They both turned to look at each other, the nurse's eyebrows raised slightly.  
  
"Yes, both you and Ms. Granger will be fine." The nurse told him, "however, you'll both need to stay here in the hospital wing for a few days. The poison should have killed you, but the manticore was too young to be lethal."  
  
"What I want to know Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall was now glaring at him darkly, "is just what exactly were you doing down at Hagrid's Hut?"  
  
"I...," Draco looked at Professor McGonagall's face, then glanced towards Granger again. "Gran...I mean Hermione and l had a few questions for Hagrid about his next Care of Magical Creatures lesson."  
  
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed angrily. "Oh really? I don't seem to recall you and Ms. Granger spending much time together in class or out of it for that matter.  
  
Draco felt his heart sink but he didn't let it show. He tried to hold his head a little bit higher, focus on a spot just below McGonagall's chin, and try not to think of what Lucius was going to say when he got expelled, He wished briefly that the manticore had gone ahead and finished him off, it certainly would have been a quicker death than the one that would await him at the manor.m  
  
"Professor McGonagall," a hoarse voice from Draco's right brought him out of his reverie. Granger had opened her eyes and was looking at Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Malfoy and I are Arithmancy partners. We were talking about Care of Magical Creatures in the library and we decided to go get Hagrid's opinion on a few things, I know that it was to late to go out, but I didn't think we'd be gone long," Granger closed her eyes with a grimace. Draco couldn't believe his ears. What was she playing at? She could easily get him expelled, why didn't she? What did she want from him?  
  
Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at Granger, probably wondering the same thing as Draco. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Madame Pomfrey pushed her aside.  
  
"That will be enough questions Minerva, both of these children need to sleep." With these words she deftly caught Draco's chin with her hand and poured part of a potion down his throat. He watched her walk to Granger's bedside with the potion, his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. Granger turned her head to look at him, their eyes connected for a moment, and Draco felt a strange emotion pass between the two before he slipped into sleep.  
  
Draco was awakened by voices sometime later; He had obviously been sleeping for quite sometime because sunlight was streaming through the window near his bed. The voices were coming from the other side of a curtain that had been put up between his bed and Granger's. He identified the voices as belonging to Potter and Weasley. He remained silent, listening to their conversation.  
  
"What in the world were you thinking? Going to Hagrid's with Malfoy? How could you go anywhere with Malfoy? Have you gone daft?" Weasley's voice sounded furious, but the anger couldn't mask the obvious concern.  
  
"Ron, I'm sure that Hermione had a good reason for being with Malfoy, right Hermione?" Potter, always the mediator, was trying to calm his friend.  
  
"All right, all right. So why were you with Malfoy? And don't tell us that it was about class, Malfoy hates Care of Magical Creatures." Weasley's voice drifted through the curtain.  
  
"Look Ron, Harry, I really don't want to talk about Malfoy. I don't want to think about Malfoy, or look at Malfoy, I've had quite enough of him. Please, can't we talk about something else?" Granger's voice pleaded softly.  
  
Potter quickly changed the subject from Draco to the manticore. "Why did Hagrid even have one?" He asked.  
  
"I'm not sure, Professor McGonagall said that they had to bring it here until it could be properly disposed of. But l don't know who they are or where the blasted thing came from. Do you know if they caught it?" Hermione had obviously been awake and listening to McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey last right too.  
  
"I certainly hope they did," Weasley's voice cut in, "as if there weren't enough nasty things running around in the Forbidden Forest, now we have a manticore to watch out for."  
  
"Hey Ron, we have to go to class now. We'll bring you your homework Hermione. And we'll come back in and see you during lunch, all right? Try not to let Malfoy bother you." Potter told her.  
  
Draco could hear them saying good-bye to each other and then feigned sleep as Potter and Weasley came out around the curtain and walked to the door. Draco waited a few more minutes to make absolutely sure that they were gone before he climbed carefully out of bed. He gingerly tested his leg and found that while it was still sore, he could walk. He looked around for Madame Pomfrey and saw that her office door was closed. Draco took a deep breath and then pulled the curtain back. He was pleased to see Granger jump back with a tiny cry of surprise. He advanced on her quickly and grabbed her arm before she could slip off the other side of the bed away from him. His grip on her arm was so tight that she couldn't get up. He leaned down so that his face was only inches from hers.  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"What?" Granger whispered, her eyes wide.  
  
"Why are you lying to protect me, what do you want?" He hissed angrily at her, careful to keep his voice low so as not to attract the nurse's attention.  
  
"I...I don't want anything from you Malfoy." She snapped back, anger quickly suffusing her face.  
  
Draco tightened his grip on her arm; "I never pictured you as the type to blackmail, Mudblood." He twisted his hold slightly, watching her face pale.  
  
"You're hurting me," she said softly, pain evident in her voice.  
  
Draco immediately let go of her arm and stepped back. He could see where his hand had been, there would probably be bruising later. Granger reached up with her other hand and gingerly touched the white marks that his hand had left.  
  
"I...I'm sorry, I hadn't meant too." He apologized, surprising both of them. He stood there ackwardly for a minute, not quite knowing why he had apologized or why he was even still standing there.  
  
"How is your leg?" Granger asked him, breaking the strange silence.  
  
"What do you think? it hurts," he snapped at her.  
  
Granger didn't say anything else to him; she turned over onto one side to face the wall. Draco stood for another moment, just looking at her, before he went back to his own bed and drew the curtain between them.  
  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please Read & Review!  



	5. Hagrid Wants a Word

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Ms. Rowling....nothing is mine... sigh  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Hermione carefully shifted her bag and winced slightly as it fell against her sore back. Madame Pomfrey might be able to mend bones in a few minutes, but the whole process had left Hermione in a fair amount of pain. She had spent two days in the hospital wing with Malfoy. After that first morning it had been in stiff silence. Professor Dumbledore had come to talk to them later that afternoon. With a dubious look to Hermione, Malfoy had stuck with the fabricated story. Before the Headmaster had left, he had asked Hermione if there was anything else that she would like to add. The doubt was obvious in his twinkling eyes, but he hadn't seemed angry, only amused. Hermione had felt a deep urge to tell him the truth, tell him everything, but then she thought of Malfoy, lying broken and bleeding on the ground. She thought of how she had turned to run, to leave him, and Hermione shuddered. Professor Dumbledore had left the hospital wing without an answer from Hermione.  
  
Hermione tried switching her book bag to the other shoulder only to find that this hurt even more. She moved over to a small alcove off to the side in the hallway, trying to avoid the jostling students around her. Harry and Ron had been helping her with her bag, but now she was on her way to Arithmancy while they were off to the other side of the school for Divination. Hermione glanced at her watch; class would be starting in only a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to swing her bag back onto her back when a voice called out.  
  
"Hullo Hermione, what're you doing? Hiding from monsters or Malfoy?" Fred and George Weasley were standing there grinning at her.  
  
The fact that a manticore was being kept on school grounds had been hushed up by the faculty, so of course, everyone knew about it. Few details were known though; both Hermione and Malfoy had refused to speak much about it to anyone. Many students were wondering just what had a Gryffindor and a Slytherin been doing outside after hours together?  
  
"Where are you headed?" Fred asked her.  
  
"To Arithmancy," she answered, returning their smiles.  
  
"We're gong to Transfiguration, that's not too far from your class, we'll help you get there." George said.  
  
"Here, let me get that for you." Fred moved forward and took a hold of Hermione's bag. With a loud Oomph, he crashed into the wall. "Crikey Hermione, what do you carry in this thing?"  
  
"Here Fred, let me help." George came forward and grasped the other strap and nearly knelt to the floor. "Can't...hold...on."  
  
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at them, a bemused glint in her eyes. "It's not that heavy." She told them.  
  
"Is she kidding George? She must have the whole library in this bag." Fred tried to appear strained as he struggled to hold the bag.  
  
George leaned against the wall to try and get a better grip on the strap. "You must be the strongest girl in the world Hermione."  
  
Fred sank to his knees, faking an expression of pain. "I think I've pulled something." He gave a loud, exaggerated moan that drew glances from passing students.  
  
"Oh, you too are being ridiculous," Hermione, snapped at them. "Just give it here, I'll manage."  
  
"No, No fair damsel!" Fred jumped easily to his feet.  
  
"As your knights in shining armor, we must make sure that you make it safely to your destination." George bowed to her.  
  
With a deep sigh, Hermione followed Fred and George towards class. They held her book bag between them like a precious icon. As they passed through the hall they called out to the other students to hear.  
  
"Make way for the Lady Hermione and her noble library."  
  
Hermione rubbed her forehead. The scene that the twins were creating did have its benefits. The students parted to watch the procession and Hermione no longer had to worry about bumping into other people. She reached for her bag when they reached the door of her class, but Fred and George wouldn't hear of it. They escorted her into the room and up to her seat. Malfoy was already there, watching her with his slate eyes. Fred and George each gave him a dark look before they turned back to Hermione and bowed to her again.  
  
"Any time that you have need of our knightly services, just let us know." They said in unison.  
  
"Thanks you guys, I'll keep that in mind." Hermione smiled at them as they left.  
  
"Well that was certainly a touching scene. Are the Weasleys that desperate for money that would enter the service of a Mudblood?" Malfoy's snide drawl made Hermione's skin crawl.  
  
"Just shut up Malfoy, I'm not in the mood. We spent two wonderfully silent days in the hospital wing, can't we just keep it that way?" She said softly, trying very hard not to rise to his bait.  
  
"If that's how you want it Granger." Malfoy turned his attention to Professor Vector.  
  
The rest of the class passed uneventfully, Hermione and Malfoy sat silently, copying down notes. The windows were opened, but no breeze drifted through today. It was stifling hot inside. Hermione figured that it would probably be one of the last hot days before the colder weather set in. She pushed up the sleazes of her robe, trying to cool herself, and continued to take notes. Out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy noticed that angry dark splotches marked the pale white of her arm; his handiwork he realized. Malfoy felt a strange emotion pass swiftly through him. For a moment, he thought that it was regret, but it was gone so quickly that he couldn't be quite sure.  
  
The end of the class came fairly quickly. Professor Vector passed out the charts for them to work on. Hermione was almost ready to go when she realized that the Professor hadn't given one to them.  
  
"Um Professor Vector?" Hermione came down the steps to stand by her teacher's desk. "You forgot to give us the chart."  
  
"Actually Ms. Granger, I had something else in mind for you and Mr. Malfoy." The teacher smiled at her warmly.  
  
Malfoy came down the steps to stand next to Hermione. She found him to be standing uncomfortably close to her. His arm was almost brushing hers. She gave him an angry glare and stepped back from him, but Malfoy seemed to take no notice.  
  
"I was looking over your charts, you do realize that you turned them in a week early?" Professor Vector looked at them. Hermione glanced at Malfoy, their eyes met and he shrugged at her.  
  
"No Professor," Hermione started, "I thought it was do today. The accident must have confused us."  
  
"That's not the point Ms. Granger." Professor Vector shuffled through a stack of parchment and retrieved a few pages that Hermione knew belonged to her and Malfoy.   
  
"Is there something wrong with them Professor?" Malfoy asked simply, voicing the question that Hermione couldn't bring herself to ask.  
  
"On the contrary Mr. Malfoy, the charts are perfect. I don't think that either of you are being challenged in my class. So the problem is what am I going to do with the two of you?" Professor Vector asked them.  
  
It was Malfoy this time that caught Hermione's eye. Hermione shrugged at him and then brought her attention back to Professor Vector.  
  
"I've been talking to Professor Dumbledore, and he informed me of a recent addition to the restricted section of the library. We've received an ancient collection of charts and manuscripts that were written by an old wizard several centuries ago. I'm sure that most of it is terribly boring, but some of it could be useful." She looked directly at Hermione and then Malfoy, slightly amused by their confused expressions. "The Headmaster wants me to go through the old charts and see if there is anything interesting in them. I don't really want to spend that much time in the library. But I think that this might be what the two of you need. It will be far more challenging than anything that we will do in class. I must warn you, it will be very hard, but you are both excellent students. I've already talked about this with the Headmaster and he too thinks it would be a good idea for the two of you to go through the charts." She smiled at them and waited for a response.  
  
Hermione was stunned; this was a big responsibility that they were being offered. A chance to work fairly unsupervised in the restricted section of the library. Hermione could feel anticipation building as she thought about piles of dusty old charts waiting in large boxes to be opened and explored.  
  
"What exactly do we have to do with them Professor?" Malfoy asked quickly, Hermione noticed that there seemed to be a spark in those silver eyes of his and she knew that he too was interested.  
  
"Well, the charts need to sorted and then plotted. Arithmancy was a different magic several hundred years ago when compared to now. For the two of you to be able to explore, first hand, these differences, is very exciting." She grinned at them and was pleased to have Hermione return her smile. Malfoy simply nodded at her.  
  
"So let's meet today after dinner, 8 o'clock in the library, and I will go into detail about what is expected of you both." Professor Vector shuffled her parchments back together and turned to go.  
  
Hermione walked quickly back up the steps, she felt extremely elated this was an excellent chance. She loved Arithmancy and to be given such an opportunity to devote herself to it was exciting. A face appeared in the back of her mind, Malfoy, she'd have to do all of this with Malfoy. Hermione stopped suddenly when she realized this. Malfoy who had been following her back up the steps to get his own bag wasn't prepared for her to pause. He knocked into her, and Hermione fell forward. The ground was swiftly rising up to meet her when she felt his arms go around her waist. The breath was knocked out of her as her quick decent was suddenly halted. Malfoy righted her but didn't let go right away; he seemed to be examining her. Hermione met his eyes.  
  
"Thanks," she muttered and quickly looked away.  
  
Malfoy released her and brushed angrily past. He grabbed his bag of the desk and then swept back down out of the room. Hermione stood where she was, an odd fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She stared down at the stone floor, lost in thought. Malfoy was acting almost civil, well, as civil as Malfoy could act.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Hermione looked up startled and saw Harry and Ron walking up the steps to her.  
  
"We ran into Fred and George on our way to lunch, they said that you were having a time of it with your bag earlier." Harry grinned at her and took her bag off the desk and easily tossed it onto his shoulder. Ron stood behind him muttering something about the Divinations teacher, Professor Trewlawney that made Hermione gasp.  
  
"Ron!"  
  
Ron gave Hermione a sheepish grin. "Sorry Hermione, you just will not believe the amount of homework that she gave us. And for no reason!"  
  
"Well actually Ron, she might have doubled it because you told Seamus that Professor Trewlawney belonged in St. Mungo's and she overheard you." Harry responded with a grin.  
  
"Oh... well there is that too I suppose." Ron said smiling. "Oi, I'm hungry, let's go have lunch."  
  
"Hermione, we were going to go talk to Hagrid during our break." Harry told her.  
  
"Good, I wanted to ask about that manticore." Hermione firmly replied as they walked through the hall.  
  
All during lunch Hermione told them about her new Arithmancy project. Both Harry and Ron were doing their best to look vaguely interested. Half way through her lunch she felt someone watching her. Turning her head casually to look around, she caught a flash of silver blonde hair and her cinnamon eyes met slate ones. Malfoy was glaring at her.  
  
"I save his life, and he hates me even more." She muttered softly as she turned back to her lunch.  
  
  
  
The walk to Hagrid's hut was very different than the previous one for Hermione. The afternoon sun shone down on them as they strolled leisurely across the grounds. There were many students scattered across the grass attempting to enjoy the last bit of warm weather before the fall set in.  
  
Hagrid stood outside his hut digging in his vegetable patch. He looked up as they approached and called out to them.  
  
"Been expectin' you three."  
  
He ushered them into his hut. Fang immediately sprung up to Harry, knocking him back against the wall. Harry grinned and started to scratch behind the giant boarhound's ears. As soon as the door was closed, Hagrid turned to Hermione, a searching expression in his eyes.  
  
"Just what were you thinking Hermione? Comin' down 'ere with that git Malfoy? An l don' want to 'ear any rubbish bout wantin' to ask me a question." Hagrid's beetle eyes flashed at her.  
  
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the floor of the hut. Hagrid looked over her head at Ron and Harry who both shrugged.  
  
"Hermione won't tell us what happened either." Harry supplied. Ron simply gave Hermione a glare.  
  
"An yeh come down 'ere and let it escape, thought you were smarter than that Hermione." At Hagrid's words, Hermione flushed angrily and snapped back at him.  
  
"l didn't let it out! I know what that thing is!" Hermione glowered at her friends.  
  
"So Malfoy did let it out!" Ron cried out triumphantly. "So we'll just go up to Professor McGonagall and you'll tell her the truth and Malfoy will finally be out"  
  
Ron had jumped to his feet, an elated expression on his freckled face. He was almost to the door when Hermione's voice called out to him.  
  
"Ron I can't, I'm sorry, but I can't." Ron swung around to look at Hermione who had become extremely interested in her shoe.  
  
"Why can't you?" Harry asked her simply.  
  
"I...I just can't. I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want too, I'd love to never have to look at Malfoy again, but I just can't." Hermione could feel her resolve to not turn Malfoy in quaver, but again she saw his pale face, and heard that horrible little voice in her head as it told her to leave him. "I just can't Ron."  
  
"Hagrid, where did it come from?" Harry hoped that by side stepping the Malfoy issue, they could dodge another fight.  
  
"Er... I'm not supposed ter tell yeh that," Hagrid started to busy himself with cleaning some teacups.  
  
"Hagrid, that thing almost killed Hermione and Malfoy. It's not like those things are native. They aren't, are they Hermione?" Harry paused to look at Hermione who quickly shook her head. "I mean, how did one end up in your yard? Who brought it?"  
  
"Look, 's none of your concern. Yeh 'ave no need to worry yourselves with what those dark wizards are up to." Hagrid suddenly stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Professor Dumbledore thinks that they're releasing dangerous creatures."  
  
"But what would that accomplish?" Hermione asked him as he handed her a cup of tea.  
  
"I dunno, make trouble for the ministry?" Hagrid offered them a plate of hard cookies that they all politely refused.  
  
"Well they aren't doing a very good job of picking monsters are they? Darn thing couldn't even properly bite Malfoy's arm off, let alone kill him." Ron grinned at Harry but Hermione looked a little grave.  
  
"Ron, don't say that!" She snapped at him.  
  
"Why are you sticking up for Malfoy now?" Ron snapped back at her.  
  
"Look, you weren't there, you didn't see it. There was so much blood, and that...that thing, and..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she looked down at her teacup. Hagrid leaned over and patted her gently on the back.  
  
"Are yeh all righ' Hermione?" He asked her quietly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks Hagrid." Hermione looked down at her watch and called out in a fairly relieved voice, "Oh look at the time, classes will be starting in a few minutes. Good-bye Hagrid!" And before Ron, Harry, or Hagrid could say another thing to her, Hermione had darted out the door.  
  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please Read & Review! It really means a lot to hear your opinions...  



	6. Their Little Room

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling... so please don't sue me!   
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Draco sat in a far corner of the library his feet propped up on the desk in front of him, a book open in his lap. He had managed to give Crabbe and Goyle the slip by coming here. They had been simpering over him ever since they found out that the manticore hadn't finished him off. They were gratified when he told them that he didn't mind that they left him to die. And in their turn, they believed his story of fighting the beast off single handedly. Their sycophantic nature did start to wear on his nerves though, and needing a break from their constant apologies, he had darted into the library, a place that he knew they wouldn't follow. He didn't really hold them responsible for running off on him though, he probably would have, that's one good reason to not have true friends, no responsibilities to them. He had decided that since he was in the library, he ought to take advantage of this opportunity to look into manticores. The table in front of him was now covered in every book that he could find that mentioned them. The large tome that he held casually contained a great deal of information on the beasts. He had to admit that they were quite extraordinary. Draco turned a page and began to read.  
  
"The manticore, a fierce and deadly beast, is known to inhabit Greece and the surrounding islands. Some have been known to migrate farther south into the Middle East; however, their progress westward into Africa was halted by the presence of the sphinxes in Egypt. (Manticores and sphinxes have long been natural enemies.) There are no living manticores in England, their ferocious nature, powerful magic, and taste for human flesh has made it illegal to own one in the British Isles."  
  
At this passage Draco paused and then chuckled mirthlessly to himself, "there is one now."  
  
Manticores possess a strange type of magic that allows it to sooth it's would be prey into a state of docility. The creature is able to sense what its prey wants and then emanates those feelings and thoughts to the prey. (They are very similar to the Boggart in this aspect of telepathy. For further Boggart information: pg. 120.)  
  
Draco stopped here, realization forming in his mind. In the past several days since the incident, he had tried to understand what had made him open the cage. He had known perfectly well what it was and what it was capable of. But as he had looked into it's eyes, he had felt peace. He had been lulled into an unnatural fit of trust simply because that monster could see what he wanted. But the feelings that it had shown him were those of warmth and friendship, he didn't care about such laughable things. Draco wanted power. Draco considered that to be the one redeemable quality of the Dark Lord, he had power, and Draco could respect that.  
  
Draco had become deeply immersed in the book when he became aware of someone moving slowly through the aisles near his table. He raised his eyes from the pages before him to watch the figure through the shelves. The figure paused at the section where he had gotten the books on manticores, with a sinking feeling, Draco knew who it was. Granger emerged from the aisle looking slightly putout.  
  
"Looking for these Mudblood?" Draco drawled and gestured to the books in front of him.  
  
Granger gave him a dark look, "No, I was just waiting for Professor Vector."  
  
Malfoy casually looked at his watch. "An hour and a half early? I hadn't realized that you actually lived in the library. But then again, I'm sure that almost anywhere would be preferable to a common room full of Gryffindors."  
  
"You were here first," Granger said simply.  
  
Draco looked at her, she was refusing to rise to his taunts, which was somewhat of a shame, fighting with Granger was fairly entertaining. But now as he studied her, he noticed how tired she looked. Her normally warm, brown eyes seemed somewhat dull, defeated.  
  
"Here," Draco marked his place and then extended the book to her.  
  
Granger looked at him suspiciously and then reached out to it, but paused before taking the text.  
  
"Granger, I don't hex library books." He was starting to find this amusing once he had gotten over his initial shock of actually offering the book to her. And even more surprising, he felt himself start to grin.  
  
Granger's eyes widened in surprise but she did take the book from him.  
  
"Thanks," she muttered and walked away. She paused before disappearing back between the shelves to give him a confused look and then she was gone.  
  
  
  
Through the large arched windows, Draco could see the sky darkening; the few remaining rays from the once vivid sunset were now melting into twilight. With a glance at his watch he knew that it was times to go find Professor Vector. He stood up slowly and brushed his silvery gold hair back from his face and started out through the aisles. He took a sharp turn around one rather prominent shelf and walked right into someone.  
  
"Watch it," he hissed as he caught himself before he could trip.  
  
"Why don't you?" Said an unpleasantly familiar voice.  
  
"Mudblood," Draco hissed and looked down.  
  
Granger had been unsuccessful in her attempt to maintain balance and was now splayed out on the floor in front of him. Strands of curly hair had pulled loose from her ponytail and were framing her annoyed face. She pulled herself to her feet and then slipped her book bag up onto her shoulder. Draco noticed that she flinched when she did this. He wondered briefly if the pain was from the manticore attack, Madame Pomfrey had been able to heal him fairly easily. He wondered why she had saved him when she could have so easily been killed as well. And not for the last time he wondered what did she want in return? But Granger said nothing, only put a book back onto a near-by shelf before giving him a disgruntled glare. Turning on her heel she left to go find the Professor. Draco had little choice but to follow her.  
  
Professor Vector was standing near Madame Pince's desk looking excited. She smiled warmly when she them and walked quickly over to them. Draco noticed right away that she was a bit more dressed up than usual, and that a small waft of perfume emanated from her.  
  
"Oh good, you're both on time. Come quickly and I'll explain while we walk. I don't have much time." The professor once again beamed at them both. Draco simply glowered at her, her enthusiasm often made him feel a little nauseous. "Now" she started as Draco and Granger struggled to keep up with her increasing gait, "you're going to be using a small ante-chamber in the library. You'll both be given keys for it, and it will be for your use only. It will be much easier for you both to get your work done if there isn't an influx of people there and this way you will always have a quiet place to work on it. Ahh, here we are."  
  
Professor Vector had led them to the back of the library and up a small spiral staircase that led to a walkway that had several closed doors down it. Draco noticed with a smirk that Granger seemed slightly out of breath, they had practically ran here, but his pulse rate wasn't even up. Professor Vector stopped at the second door on the walkway, pulled out a key ring, and fitted a small silver key into the lock. The door opened and Draco had to use all of the skills that Lucius taught him to not look surprised, or impressed. The room was larger than he had expected. Windows bordered the far wall and a fireplace was already roaring merrily away. There was a large table and several chairs. Even though the room was rather large, there was hardly room to walk around in it. Piled everywhere were large crates and old trunks. One had been opened to reveal that it was full of ancient looking parchment rolls and thick books with peeling covers and binds tied with string.   
  
"Now, as I had explained earlier, these writings all belong to a wizard that lived approximately five hundred years ago. I say approximately because no one knows for sure. There were rumors for a long time about a wizard that lived like a monk in some part of the Irish wilderness. I don't know how Professor Dumbledore managed to locate all of this, but here we are. The wizard's name was Gregorius O'Leary." Professor Vector swept around the room checking boxes as she talked. "Most of these texts deal with Arithmancy and how it affects people. From what Dumbledore has told me, this wizard believed that the number pattern that is the foundation of Arithmancy is also the foundation for most magic. He spent most of his life making records of Arithmantic patterns."  
  
Draco glanced at Granger who had come forward a few steps into the room; her eyes that had seemed tired earlier were now alight with excitement. Her hands were clasped tightly together and she was looking around the room trying to take in as much as possible. Granger had no skill at all in hiding her emotion. Draco made a soft derisive noise that she ignored. Draco was itching to tear into a crate and see what he could find, but he calmly stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, an expression of mild boredom furrowing his brow.  
  
Professor Vector glanced at a small watch that she was wearing and then started talking again, this time a little faster. "What you're supposed to do is go through his writings and study his findings, see if there is any real connection between the base Arithmancy pattern and anything else. You'll be allowed access to the restricted section because the Headmaster believes that it might prove useful to your work somehow. You'll have to make weekly progress reports and please, try to stay out of trouble. The Headmaster and I are placing a great deal of responsibility on the two of you." She glanced nervously at her watch again and then looked at herself in the glass of one of the windows. Draco could swear that she was checking her make-up. "Well, that about does it, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me tomorrow. I really must be going now, here are your keys, and good luck!" And with that Professor Vector practically ran out of the room.  
  
Granger was unable to contain herself any longer; she darted forward to the open box and kneeled by it, her eyes wide with excitement. Draco could hear her mutter, "Amazing!" to herself.  
  
Draco looked back through the door; he could see most of the library from up above like this. He took another look and could see Professor Vector rushing out the doors. He closed the door and strolled into the room coming to stand next to Granger who was lifting out an old scroll with a great show of reverence.  
  
"It's not your first born Granger, although that is a scary thought, you're face, Weasley's hair." Draco grimaced at her but she was smiling when she looked up at him, she was dripping with delight.  
  
"Look at this Malfoy, it's amazing." She held the scroll out to him and for a second Draco realized what it would be like to have her as friend. Granger was practically glowing at Draco as she held it out for him to take.  
  
"I don't want it, it's been soiled by your touch." He growled at her, finding himself uncomfortable with the way she had just looked at him. Her delight seemed to fade slightly and she lowered the scroll that Draco was dying to look at. She said nothing to him for quite some time.  
  
Granger pulled open a few other crates and rummaged around their contents while Draco did the same. He eventually decided to start with a few old tomes with dark red bindings while Granger had a pile of scrolls on the table in front of her. They worked quietly, taking notes and plotting points. Granger was the first to break the silence.  
  
"Look, we're going to be spending a lot of time here together. And I'm not about to give up this chance just to avoid you." Granger started to roll up the scroll that she had just gone through which contained a great deal of information on the reproduction cycle of flobberworms when contrasted with the number nine.  
  
"And your point would be what Mudblood?" He asked her not looking up.   
  
"We should have some sort of truce." Surprised by these words, Draco glanced up and met Granger's eyes. He briefly wondered how her eyes could have so many different shades of brown in them.  
  
"A truce?" Draco repeated as he mused over his last though, deciding that he didn't care how many shades of brown the Mudblood had in her eyes.  
  
"Yeah, a truce. You know, a white flag, we lay down our arms." Granger unrolled another scroll and immediately began to take notes. "This will go easier if we work together."  
  
"Work together? Draco Malfoy work together with Mudblood Granger? Are you insane?" Even as he said these words he knew that she was right. Their work would go much smoother if they weren't constantly at each other's throats.  
  
Granger stopped working to watch him mull this idea over. "I don't want to be constantly worried that you're going to hex me." She told him, "I find it distracting when I have to constantly watch you."  
  
"Why Granger, you watch me? I didn't know you cared." Draco gave her his best smirk; Granger only rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll have a truce. I swear that when we're in this room, I won't hex you. Will that do?"  
  
Granger seemed to consider this and finally nodded.  
  
"Of course, outside of this room, there is no truce." He told her firmly expecting some sort of argument, but Granger just nodded agreeably at him.  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way Malfoy."  
  
"Well since we're being all peaceful-like, I have a question for you Granger." Draco closed the book that he was going through and set it down. "What exactly happened the other night?"  
  
"I...I saw you from the window and I followed, to warn Hagrid. When it attacked I..." Granger paused here and looked away from Draco, "I stunned it and then managed to wake you up and get you to the castle."  
  
"Where were you? We didn't see you." Malfoy was staring at her now, picking up on every little thing that she did, the way her eyes darted around the room avoiding his gaze, the way that she kept playing with a strand of her hair, the way she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It all told him something very important; she was hiding something.  
  
"I was invisible," she muttered.  
  
"How could you have been invisible? Invisibility charms are very advanced, even for know-it-all Granger. You being capable of performing an invisibility charm is almost as unlikely as you having an invisibility cloak." Draco smirked at her but found that she was now decidedly not looking at him. "You have an invisibility cloak?"  
  
"N...no I don't have one." She answered and he could tell that she wasn't lying, but she wasn't being entirely truthful either. And then he understood. She didn't have one, but someone else did. There wasn't any way that Weasley could afford an invisibility cloak so it must be...  
  
"Potter, it's Potter's cloak." He said matter-a-factly and then smiled inwardly. That was definitely something interesting to know. "But why did you save me?"  
  
"Nobody deserves to die like that." She muttered and started to read her scroll again.  
  
Draco leaned across the table and snatched it out of her hands. She looked up angrily and met his eyes. "Not even me Granger?"  
  
"No, not even you Malfoy." Her brown eyes flashed at him and he felt that she could be dangerous if she ever got angry enough. She leaned across the table to take the scroll back from him when he reached forward and grabbed her arm. "Let me go Malfoy!" She yelled at him, trying to pull away.  
  
"Why haven't you told anyone that truth? Why didn't you rat me out?" He leaned towards her; this question had been weighing on his mind since it happened. He didn't want her to have any control over him; he needed to know what could have possessed her to protect him.  
  
"I just didn't want to tell, that's all, now let me go." She struggled more furiously against him, but Draco held on. He knew that if he let her go she would bolt for the door. He found himself holding her arm more gently than he had before in the hospital wing, some tiny part of him didn't want to hurt her.  
  
"I don't believe you. I know that you and your merry men would give anything to have me thrown out of Hogwarts. What could possibly stop you?" He leaned closer to her, their faces only a few inches away from each other; he looked into her eyes trying to find the answer. And then he saw it, guilt. "You feel guilty?" He asked, surprised, why in the world would she feel guilty.  
  
Granger seemed to lose her glow and once again she looked very tired. She stopped fighting his hold and stayed still. "I...I was going to leave you." Draco's eyes widened. "I was going to let you die. I turned to go, to run, but I'm not like that. I don't know who that was in me that wanted to let you die. But nobody deserves that." Her voice died down to a low murmur and then stopped.  
  
She was now looking at him with an expression that shocked him. Her eyes seemed to be asking forgiveness. She looked only a few more words away from tears. This wasn't the Mudblood Granger that he was familiar with. She suddenly seemed to become aware of how close he was to her and she jerked back. He let go and she sat down. Draco just sat and stared at her, he wasn't quite sure how to handle her at the moment, it was much easier when they were insulting each other. But before the silence could get too oppressive, she started to pack up her bag. She slipped her little silver key into her pocket and then walked to the door. She cast one last glance at Draco before she darted out the door. Draco rose to his feet and went out onto the walkway; he could see her curly head disappear out through the main doors.   
  
  
"Well," he whispered to himself, "that was certainly interesting."  
  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please Read & Review!!  



	7. Confessions of Innocence

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything....   
  
***Thank you very much for all your reviews! I'm going to post the next three chapters, that's all of what I have written so far... And I swear, the romance is coming...   
_______________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Hermione sagged against a wall and took a deep breath. "Why in the world did I tell him that?" She asked herself.  
  
When Malfoy looked at her that way, with those gray eyes that seemed to darken with his mood, she was unable to lie. She had told him what she hadn't told anyone else, she had almost let him die, done something that she would think only dark wizards would do. And now Malfoy knew.   
  
Hermione let her bag drop to the ground and then sank to sit besides it. She let her dark hair fall into her face as she pulled her knees up and let her forehead rest against them. Things would be perfect right now if it wasn't for him. The little that she had accomplished in the library that evening had been very interesting. Hermione knew that she could easily lose herself up in that room. She loved Arithmancy; it was so ordered and structured. But no, how could she lose herself with Malfoy glaring at her? It made her so angry to think about him, that smug look, that malicious smirk. All he did was make trouble.   
  
"And he thinks that he's handsome just because his eyes sparkle sometimes." Hermione grumbled and then stopped, "What am I thinking? If his eyes sparkle it's only because he's thinking something evil."   
  
"Hermione? What're you doing?"  
  
Hermione jerked up to find Dean Thomas staring down at her,  
  
"Hello Dean," she said smiling at him.  
  
"Are you all right Hermione?" Dean looked fairly concerned about finding the young Gryffindor alone in a dark corridor.  
  
"I'm fine, just thinking about how much I hate Malfoy." Hermione glared around at nothing in particular.  
  
"Oh, and here I thought that something was bothering you." Dean broke out in a large, easy grin. "Now if you didn't hate Malfoy, then we'd start to worry."  
  
Hermione felt herself relax and she took the hand that Dean offered her. He easily pulled her to her feet.  
  
They walked back to the Gryffindor common room together. As they leisurely strolled along, Hermione spoke non-stop about what Malfoy and her were doing up in the little chamber off the library. They stepped threw the portrait hole and the image of Malfoy's face faded completely from Hermione's mind. She had always found the common room to be warm and soothing, at least, when it wasn't being used for as a testing zone for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The evening's Quidditch practice had obviously just come to an end because the whole of Gryffindor's team was standing near the doorway, covered head to foot in mud, and discussing strategy. Hermione waved at Ron and Harry, stifled a yawn, and then started up to the girl's dormitory. Lavendar and Parvarti were whispering merrily to each other over a divination book entitled Palmistry of Love, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stowed books under her bed. She pulled on her pajamas and crawled thankfully into bed. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was "I hate Draco Malfoy."  
  
  
  
"C'mon Hermione, how long does it take you to eat a bowl of porridge anyway?" Ron was impatiently pushing a few raisins around his plate with a fork.   
  
"Well it is Saturday. I'm not exactly in a rush you know." Hermione told him as she refilled her glass of pumpkin juice. As she told him this, the owls swept in through the high windows. As usual, a brown owl deposited the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione. But before the first owl could take off again, another owl had landed next to it. This owl was a little larger than the delivery owl and a grayish color. A letter was tied to the foot that it extended over Hermione's bowl.   
  
"Who's that from Hermione?" Harry asked as he watched Hedwig who flew down to deposit a note from Hagrid into his lap.   
  
Hermione looked up in time to notice Malfoy's eagle owl land at the Slytherin table. "It's from Viktor." She told them.   
  
Ron's face suffused with color at the mention of the Quidditch player's name. "What's that git still sending you letters for? I thought you told him that you just wanted to be friends."  
  
"I did tell him that I just wanted to be friends, and we are friends, which is why he sends me letters. Really Ron, I thought that you would have gotten past this by now." Hermione slipped the letter into her bag to save for later. There was no point in further antagonizing Ron by reading it here.   
  
"Are you two ready? Hagrid wants us to come down for a visit." Harry told them as Hedwig flew off with the other owls. Ron turned to Hermione to see if she was done eating.  
  
"You two go on, I'm going to the library in for a bit." She told them as she tore into a piece of toast.  
  
"The library? Hermione, it's the weekend!" Ron told her in a plaintive voice.   
  
"Well I want to go now so that I can avoid Malfoy." She told them.  
  
"How do you know that Malfoy won't be there now?" Ron asked her.  
  
"I know that Malfoy won't be there because you and Harry were just complaining about how you two can't play Quidditch this morning because the Slytherins reserved the field for practice, he is their seeker in case you have forgotten." She took a drink of juice and pushed her bowl away from her.   
  
"Well, we'll see you for lunch then I suppose," Harry told her as he and Ron stood up. "And watch out for Malfoy!" He said with a grin.  
  
  
  
Hermione sat up in the room in the library. She had opened several different crates that morning. Each seemed to contain charts and scrolls from different years. A few even contained fragile spell books. She looked through these for quite some time before she finally stopped and started to work. Every once in a while she would get up to go look out the window, from here she could see the Quidditch field. Glancing at her watch, Hermione decided to check to make sure that Malfoy was still out on the field. Sure enough, various broom-seated figures were shooting around the field, and one of them had a shock of white-gold hair. Hermione paused and watched for a moment. She had to admit that Malfoy was a decent Seeker, nothing like Harry of course, but he probably wouldn't have needed to buy his way onto the team.   
  
Hermione opened a window and then sat back down at the table. She opened a scroll and found that it wasn't nearly as interesting as the previous ones had been. This scroll had more to do with divination than with Arithmancy. Hermione yawned and pulled out her quill and settled herself more comfortably in the squishy chair that she had pulled over to the table from the fireplace. Unfortunately, she had made herself a bit too comfortable, and when the quill fell out of her hand and her head came to rest against her folded arms on the table in front of her, she didn't even notice.   
  
"Granger."   
  
Distantly Hermione heard a soft voice. There was a light touch to her cheek and the whisper sounded again.  
  
"Granger."   
  
Hermione breathed in a little deeper and wondered why Lavendar and Parvarti couldn't keep their voices down in the dorm. She felt a soft puff of breath against her cheek and she raised her hand to pet Crookshanks, but instead of fur her hand touched something smooth and cool. The voice, which was becoming clearer as she slowly woke up, repeated again.  
  
"Granger."  
  
Her hand was still pressed up against the smooth surface of what wasn't Crookshanks. Hermione blinked open her eyes and yanked her hand back as if burned with a small cry of shock. Her hand had been resting against Malfoy's cheek. He was kneeling next to her chair, his face only a few inches from her own. Hermione shoved her chair back hard and it began to tip. She only had a moment to realize that it was going over when Malfoy's hand caught hers and he pulled her forward again. He pulled her right out of her chair and she stumbled onto her knees next to him.  
  
"You're awfully clumsy Granger. Tell me, is that because you're a mudblood or is it a Gryffindor thing?" He smirked at her and let go of her hand.  
  
"I thought we had a truce Malfoy!" Hermione snapped as she got quickly to her feet.  
  
"What, have you been hexed?" He asked her innocently as she stood up as well.  
  
Hermione looked around the room at her books and then she held up her arms and examined then looking for some telltale sign of magic, but there was nothing.   
  
"It did take all of my resolve to not hex you, of course, but I do keep my promises. I am a Malfoy after all." He walked around the table and sat down.   
  
"And that counts for so much. Death Eaters are known for their truthful ways aren't they?" Hermione pulled her chair back up and started to pack up her bag. Her face was flushed and she felt rather embarrassed about Malfoy finding her asleep.   
  
"I'm not a Death Eater." Malfoy said quietly. His voice was so firm that Hermione looked up at him surprised. His voice seemed filled with deep resolve and he had a far away look in his slate eyes.  
  
"But your father..." Hermione started only to be cut off by Malfoy who stood up angrily.  
  
"I never said anything about my father. Don't they train you goody-two-shoes not to judge people by their parents?" He came around the table to stand in front of her. All of the amusement that he had felt earlier was gone.  
  
"I've never judged you because of your parents, I've judged you because you are an ill-tempered prat!" Hermione turned to face Malfoy straight on.   
  
"You take that back Mudblood!" Malfoy growled savagely as he stood before her, his gray eyes seemed to darken as Hermione met them with her amber ones.   
  
"I will not." Hermione glowered at him and then turned and walked to the door. She stopped before leaving though and turned back to him a slight frown on her face. "You're really not a Death Eater?"   
  
He glared at her silently and she thought that he wasn't going to answer her, but as she walked through the door she could hear him call out behind her.   
  
"No Granger, I'm not."  
  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please Read & Review!!  



	8. Letters from Father

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Ms. Rowling  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Draco crumpled the letter from Lucius and savagely pushed himself back from the table. Several Slytherins looked up at him as he turned away and walked out of the great hall. He felt eyes watch him as he walked though the door and refused to look and see if any of them were amber colored. He didn't want to meet her eyes right now.   
  
He walked out through the front doors of Hogwarts and onto the grounds. Draco took the crumpled letter out of his pocket and tore it into little pieces before letting them go. He watched the tiny scraps drift idly down towards the water of the lake. Draco knew that he would respond to this one. No matter how much he disliked Lucius, Draco knew that he could no longer ignore his letters, or his commands. At least this latest order was simple. Draco was only supposed to meet him in Hogsmeade before the Halloween feast. Draco knew what the purpose of the meeting was, Lucius was still trying to convince him to be a death eater, force him to follow in his footsteps. Sometimes Draco didn't really know why he didn't just agree. Everyone already thought that he was a death eater. Except for Granger though, she had seemed to believe him. Draco hadn't known why it was important for her to know that he wasn't a death eater, but it had been. He had been very surprised that day when he had found her fast asleep in their room. Her brown curls were fringing her face and Draco had thought that her hair wasn't nearly as bushy as he remembered. Draco glared out at the lake and remembered that morning in the library, for a moment, he had almost thought she was pretty.   
  
"Know-it-all Granger pretty?" Draco gave a snort of laughter that didn't mask his doubt.  
  
Draco turned back towards the school; he could see several people had just come out onto the grounds. Moving closer he saw that they were Potter and Weasley carrying brooms with Granger between both of them deep in conversation.   
  
"Stupid Mudblood," Draco hissed as his eyes followed her across the lawn towards the Quidditch field.  
  
Even though Draco went to the library almost every day, his meetings with Granger had become fairly rare. Their time together had eventually dwindled to only a few minutes together in the library to discuss their weekly progress report and in Arithmancy where they didn't speak. Draco had finally realized that Granger was avoiding him. He saw her in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, but there she was surrounded by Potter and Weasley constantly. He couldn't even taunt her properly with them hanging around. Whenever he made a comment towards her, she would just step back and let her mighty protectors take care of it.   
  
"And who is she to avoid me? She's the mudblood!" Draco glared towards the Quidditch field as he saw Potter and Weasley rise up on brooms. He watched dolefully from where he was as the two friends released the little snitch from its box and began to chase it.   
  
Draco stalked through the castle doors and started to head towards the dungeons. On one of the walls was a notice of the first Quidditch match of the season. Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff on Saturday.   
  
"I could skip the match and go to the library. She'd be there then, she'd expect me to go to the match." He muttered under his breath as he looked at the notice. He didn't know why he wanted to see her. He tried to convince himself that it was only because he wanted to check her work. Half of his Arithmancy grade was dependant on her. But there was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind when he thought this, as if there might be some other reason for him to see Granger. As if he might actually want to see Granger, as if he might actually miss her. But Draco easily dismissed thoughts like that as being completely ludicrous. But he did find himself looking forward to Saturday with an odd sense of unjustifiable anticipation.  
  
  
  
Draco had to fight his way through the throng of students that was pouring out onto the lawn for the upcoming match. He hadn't changed his mind about going to the library even though he almost felt guilty about not watching the match. He knew that to be prepared for their match against Hufflepuff, he really should become familiar with the way Cedric Diggory's replacement played. But Draco had little doubt that they would be pushover, no matter how well they played. Draco was rather proud of his Quidditch ability and it constantly infuriorated him that Potter somehow always managed to come out on top. He paused to watch a large troupe of Gryffindors pass him on their way outside, Potter and Weasley included. Draco was pleased to see that Granger wasn't with them.   
  
The library was deserted when Draco reached it; even Madame Pince seemed to be absent. He strolled through the shelves enjoying the resounding silence. He was pleased to see that the door to the antechamber was cracked open. Draco was aware that Granger was as careful with this room as he was. He wouldn't have been surprised if she came back to check that the door was locked after she had left. She would never leave the door open unless she was there. Draco and Granger both knew that the writings of O'Leary were very valuable, even if no one else could see the beauty of ancient manuscripts.  
  
He stealthily opened the door and slinked into the room. Granger was   
sitting at the table in the squishy chair that she seemed to like so much.  
There were several books around her but none were opened. Draco realized, as he came up behind her that she was reading a letter. Standing behind her, Draco glanced over her shoulder at it. He skimmed it quickly and then noticed with a bit of surprise that it was signed Viktor.   
  
"This couldn't possibly be Viktor Krum?" He wondered to himself.  
  
He had always figured that Krum had been using Granger to disrupt Potter during the tournament. "What could anyone want with a buck-toothed know-it-all? Well, so she isn't exactly buck-toothed anymore, and so what if her being a know-it-all is one of Granger's better qualities? That shouldn't hold the interest of someone as famous as Krum." Draco felt a slight tinge of anger as he looked down at the letter.   
  
"Reading letters are we? Anything interesting?" Draco  
breathed into Granger's ear. His mouth was so close to her head that her   
curly hair fluttered.   
  
Granger spun around to face him, her eyes wide with a bit of fright. "Malfoy! Haven't you ever heard of knocking!" She practically screamed at him.  
  
"Why knock? I have a key." He sat down next to her, knowing that it made her uncomfortable to have him so close.   
  
"I swear, if you do that again I'll hex you. I don't know with what, but I swear I will." Granger's eyes flashed angrily at him and Draco had little doubt that she meant it.   
  
Deciding that a change of topic might be in order Draco stole the letter from her hand. "So, still dating the famous Viktor Krum?"  
  
"No, not that it's any of your business Malfoy."   
  
Draco felt an odd sense of relief, no doubt happy that one of his favorite celebrities wasn't tied to a Mudblood. "Ahh, well now Weasley has his chance doesn't he?" Draco smirked as Granger gave him a glare. "Yes, I'm sure that Weasley will be pleased to know that Viktor is once again available." Draco knew how ludicrous this was, but then, so was the way that Weasley had acted last year. Draco might hate Potter and his friends, but he did like to keep tabs on them.  
  
Draco watched Granger, waiting for the tide of rage that he knew must be coming as her face suffused with color, but when she opened her mouth it wasn't a verbal barrage that met his ears, but laughter. Pure and clean like a bell it rang out in the room and probably carried out into the empty library. Draco stared at her in stunned silence. He had made her laugh, not a derisive one, but happy and amused. Draco felt once again, what it might be like to have Hermione Granger as a friend and not an enemy, and for a single moment before all of his Malfoy training could kick him, he didn't think that it was such a bad idea.  
  
"That has got to be..." Granger dissolved into laughter once again before regaining some self-control, "the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard. Don't ever let Ron hear you say that!"  
  
"I don't care if he does, what is poor ittle Weasley going to do to me? And it's his own fault for being such a ruddy git that he didn't even see what was in front of him." Draco felt himself grinning back at Granger, but she had suddenly gone still.  
  
"Wh...what is that supposed to mean Malfoy?" Granger seemed to have gone pale and she twisted the hem of her robe in her fingers.   
  
"What is what supposed to mean Granger?" Draco wasn't listening to her anymore, he had suddenly found himself captivated by a flash of white that had turned out to be Granger's slender ankles. He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the delicate image that she had presented him and meet her gaze. Then he knew what she was talking about, and he had no idea what he had meant. He stared at her opened mouth and then stood up.  
  
"What do you think I meant Mudblood?" he hissed at her, pleased when she flinched slightly, the small peace that they had achieved only moments before was now gone. He snatched a book off the table, trying to give some credence to his unexpected arrival and then walked from the room leaving Granger staring wide-eyed at the floor.  
  
  
  
Draco pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as he pressed through the crowd towards the address that Lucius had given him. The directions took him down one side street after another until he had found what was probably the most decrepit part of Hogsmeade. The broken down house that stood before him was only one amongst many. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.   
  
"Welcome young Mr. Malfoy," a simpering man that Draco didn't know bowed him into the house. "Your father is waiting in the parlor down the hall."  
  
Draco walked slowly towards the last room at the end of the hall; he took in every detail that he could see. The wallpaper was an old peeling print, what little furniture there was lay covered under almost an inch of dust. This was definetly not up to Lucius' usual standards of living. As he passed a door on his left, he could hear the soft murmuring of several men. Draco felt a pang of foreboding and he knew that nothing good could come of this meeting. The door at the end of the hall opened before he could reach it and he stood now before the icy visage of his father.  
  
"Come in Draco," Lucius said in that low voice that use to make Draco shudder.  
  
Draco showed no emotions however as he walked steadily into the room and stood looking around himself. This room was very different from what he had seen of the rest of the house. This room was clean and warm, the furniture, while old, looked comfortable. Lucius motioned for Draco to sit but he only shook his head and asked a question that he already knew the answer to.  
  
"What do you want Lucius?" Draco asked him coolly, making sure to meet his eyes.  
  
"Can't a father take an interest in his son?" Lucius made no attempt to make these words sound sincere. He continued in that same low voice that use to terrify Draco's mother. "I fear that you might be on the threshold of a gave mistake, and Draco, I do mean grave."  
  
Draco let no reaction show to Lucius' words, he knew that he had to remain calm and silent.  
  
Lucius sighed and took out his wand, "Draco, my son, I would really prefer this to be simple and painless. You would be a great asset to our cause, and your position as a student in Hogwarts makes you vital to the Dark Lord's plans."  
  
"Crabbe and Goyle are there are well Lucius, I'm sure that they would be willing to join your lot." Draco felt the grip on his temper start to slip as a shiver of fear crept imperceptibly up his spine.   
  
"The Dark Lord doesn't care about Crabbe and Goyle, he wants you! And I will not tolerate you delaying his plans just because you don't know where your loyalties lie. If I have to remind you of all you that owe to me, then I will do so." Lucius had stood up and was facing Draco, his wand held loosely in his hand.  
  
Draco held his head high and tried not to show his fear. He looked at the wand for a mere moment and knew it was a mistake. Lucius smiled cruelly at his son and then in that same low voice, hissed a spell that Draco had heard used many times before but never on himself.   
  
"Crucio"  
  
The pain was immense, Draco could feel that white-hot light coursing through him, burning every inch of his body, drying out his veins and making his head scream in agony. He fell forward onto his knees but he refused to scream. His ears were pounding loudly and he never heard the curse being repeated again and again as Lucius cast the spell repeatedly. Draco only knew that every part of him hurt, every hair on his body was singeing itself to his skin, burning his flesh, he could feel it as great chunks seemed to dry up from the heat and fall off. Draco was trying hard not to scream, not to make a noise, not to let Lucius win. But a low moan issued forth from him that slowly escalated into a painful cry of defeat. And suddenly the pain was gone.   
  
"Open your eyes son."  
  
Draco opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his father. The wand was still held in his hand, pointing casually at Draco. With the pain gone Draco could feel the tears that had been forced out of him during the agony. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but he felt so weak he could barely move.  
  
"Draco, you will join us." It wasn't a request. Lucius expected no more argument from his son. And Draco felt himself nodding.  
  
"Yes," he whispered, but Lucius still held the wand, watching him. "Yes father." Draco said, his voice felt dry and painful in his throat.  
  
Draco didn't move from where he lay on the floor, his knees tucked up to his chin, Lucius turned and walked from the room without a glance back. Draco closed his eyes again. His father had won; had beaten him. There had been so much pain that he hadn't known what to do, and now his fate had been decided. He felt anger build up him, but he was too exhausted to move. There really wasn't any point to fighting it; he knew that, Voldemort was too powerful. At least this way he would be on the winning team. He wouldn't have to put up with the likes of Potter and his gang anymore. He saw Lucius' cold eyes in his mind and hated him, hated him more than anything in the world. And then another face came to him, one that he didn't hate. Warm brown eyes that were crinkled in laughter at something he had said. Someone that believed him when he told her that he wasn't a death eater.   
  
Draco grabbed the armrest of the closest chair and pulled himself up. He stood and looked shakily around him. There was a window against one wall. He stumbled towards it and crashed into a table. Pulling himself up with a curse he could hear footsteps in the hall. Draco pulled the window open and felt a breath of icy wind ruffle his hair. He knew that he was too weak to climb out of the window so he merely let himself fall out. Pulling himself to his feet once again, he leaned against the wall of the house and started walking as quickly as he could through the deserted streets. As he turned another corner, he could hear cheerful voices coming towards him; he ducked into an alleyway to wait for them to pass.   
  
Potter, Weasley, and Granger were strolling down the road oblivious to the dangers that lurked only a few streets away. Potter stopped short and turned to look into the alley.   
  
"Why are you lurking in the dark Malfoy?" Potter asked him coldly, and Draco felt oddly annoyed when Potter and Weasley both edged in front of Granger, blocking the pretty girl from view.  
  
"I'm taking a stroll Potter, what does it look like," Draco snapped at him, wishing they would leave. "You really should watch out Potter, you'll lead your friends right into trouble you know." He knew that Lucius and his friends would be very interested in finding the fabulous Harry Potter in a fairly deserted street, not that Draco cared about what would happen to Potter, but Granger hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't her fault that she was a mudblood.  
  
But Potter wasn't getting the hint. Draco could see that Potter was  
torn between two great desires, one desperately wanted to beat Draco's   
head in, but the other would rather just avoid Draco in general.  
  
"C'mon Potter," Draco growled at him, Granger's face was peaking around Weasley at him; she seemed worried. Draco leaned farther back into the shadows. "Why don't you take your stupid mudblood girlfriend and help Weasley here shop for a house, I saw some lovely ones down that way. They even had a roof on some of them, I'd say right in his price range wouldn't you?"  
  
Weasley dove forward but Potter grabbed his arm and muttered something to him that Draco couldn't hear. All three of them gave him a nasty look and then disappeared down the street. Draco gave an exhausted sigh and leaned against the wall. He felt his knees give as all the strength went out of him and he sank down to the dirty ground. He heard footsteps running, coming near him, and he knew that it was over. He couldn't escape Lucius.   
  
"Malfoy?"   
  
Draco's eyes shot open in surprise when he heard her voice. Granger stood in the mouth of the alleyway. She rushed to him and kneeled next to him.  
  
"Are you all right? What happened to you?" Her voice sounded worried. Draco couldn't help but smile to himself, she was worried.  
  
"I told you to go! I don't need you." He snapped at her, hiding the pleasure at having her worry. She placed one hand on his shoulder and the other lightly touched his chest through his robes.   
  
"Malfoy..." she started but Draco suddenly held a finger to her lips. He strained his ears, trying to listen, there was someone coming. He looked at Granger and knew what would happen if they found her here. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself to his feet. Granger stood up with him and was about to speak when he grabbed her roughly. He pulled her into a darker shadow and covered her mouth with his hand.   
  
"For once in your life, shut-up Granger." He hissed in her ear. Draco figured that she would argue but she immediately went still and silent. He pulled her close to him, mostly because he didn't think that he could stand without her support, but also because a tiny part of him was yearning to hold her. There were footsteps approaching, insistent footsteps. From where they were standing, Draco could see Lucius stop and look down the alley.  
  
"He has to be close Goyle, look down there." Lucius commanded to a large burly figure that started down the alley towards them. "I never should have left him alone, it's his mother in him, she was hard to break as well."  
  
Draco felt Granger tremble and he pulled her closer. They watched, petrified as Goyle came nearer to them. He could feel Granger's hand drop and reach for her wand but Goyle had stopped approaching, another figure had joined Lucius.  
  
"Dumbledore knows that we're here, we have to leave Hogsmeade." The new figure told him. "Don't worry Lucius, we know where to find your son. He has no where else to go except for Hogwarts."   
  
Lucius nodded; looking slightly defeated he turned to the other men and all three disaparated with a popping sound.   
  
Draco stood for a few more moments; not wanting to move for fear that this might be a trick; that they were waiting for him. But finally he let go of Granger who took a step back from him. Draco leaned against the wall, he felt too exhausted to move. He looked at Granger, she seemed very frightened. He expected her to turn around and run the other way but she suddenly threw her arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug.  
  
"Are you all right Malfoy? What did they want with you?" She asked softly as she pulled back far enough to look into his eyes. Which Draco didn't think was far enough, as he had suddenly become uncomfortably aware of how close she was.  
  
"I'm fine Granger," he said gruffly and pushed her back gently. She didn't say anything, just placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled him away from the wall.  
  
"C'mon Malfoy, I'll help you get back." She told him as he leaned against her.  
  
"People will see." He said as she started to guide him from through the alley. "And I don't need help from a mudblood." He snapped at her.  
  
Granger immediately let go of his arm and Draco felt himself land hard on the ground. She turned to look at him, her eyes flashing.  
  
"Look Malfoy, almost everyone is back at the castle now, the feast will be starting soon, so no one will see you being helped by a mudblood. So please, can you just stop being a prat for a couple of minutes?" She offered him her hand, which, with great reluctance, Draco accepted.   
  
Granger dug through her bag and found a bag of newly bought candy. After fishing around for a moment, she came up with a large bar of chocolate.   
  
"Here, eat some of this." She broke it in half and handed a piece to him.  
  
"You know, Lucius isn't a dementor." He told her looking suspiciously at the chocolate.  
  
"I know that, but it has lots of sugar in it. You'll feel better if you eat some." She told him simply and put the bag of Honeydukes candy back into her book bag.   
  
They walked slowly out of town and towards the school, Draco had to admit that he was feeling better now. The sun was setting and a soft red glow was lingering over the grounds. He didn't need to lean on Granger anymore and he was thankful for that. She made him uncomfortable when she was that close. She didn't ask him any questions about what had happened either and he found their silence to be comforting.   
  
Many windows were lit up in the castle, and they had to pass several grinning jack-o-lanterns on their way to the great hall. A rumble of many voices could be heard on the other side of the large doors as they paused before joining the feast. Draco turned to look at Granger who had stopped as well.  
  
"You know Granger," he said quietly, "you're not as bad as I thought."   
  
She gave him an almost imperceptible smile and replied, "Thanks, I think. You're not so bad yourself Malfoy." And she entered the great hall to join Potter and Weasley, leaving Draco standing out in the hall thinking that today hadn't been that bad of a day after all.  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Please Read & Review!!  



	9. It Happened on the Quidditch Pitch

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, it's all J. K. Rowling.  
  
***I hope that you all will Read & Review this, it really means a lot to me. I'm not done though so don't worry... :)  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"I cannot believe that you went back to help Malfoy! Hagrid's right, you have gone daft!"   
  
Hermione sent Ron a doleful glare across their Potions homework, which was spread out over a table in the Gryffindor common room.  
  
"I don't know why I even told you Ron. You always over react. Malfoy's really not that bad." She looked away from him as he gave her a look that clearly said that she had just grown another head.   
  
"Not that bad? Malfoy's...not that bad?" He suddenly leaned across the rolls of parchment and pressed his hand to her forehead. "Well you don't feel like your running a temperature, but I still think you should go see Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione shoved his hand away and glowered at him. "There isn't anything wrong with me, all I said was that he's not that bad. You are being absolutely ridiculous. Harry, please tell him that he's being ridiculous."  
  
Harry looked up from his potions text with an expression that showed he had hoped to be left out of this fight. "Hermione, I have to agree with Ron on this one. It is Malfoy after all. Saying that Malfoy isn't that bad is about equal to saying that blast-ended skrewts are cute and cuddly."  
  
"I don't believe you two. All I say is that Malfoy isn't that bad and you think I should be locked up in St. Mungo's." Hermione could feel herself becoming angry, a dull throb had started in her head and she knew that she'd have a horrible headache if this blew into a full-fledged argument.   
  
"That might not be a bad idea Hermione. He's obviously doing something to you. I would have thought that you'd be too smart for him, but I suppose that brains don't count for much when you lack common sense." Ron told her, he looked to Harry for support but Harry just shook his head knowing that Ron had stepped over the line.  
  
Hermione gave Ron a dark look and quickly began shoving her books away.   
  
"Hermione," Ron tried to get her attention, "Hermione, I didn't mean it like that. Really, C'mon Hermione, don't go, we still have Charms to work on." Ron tried to grab her arm but Hermione stepped out of range.  
  
"Oh do it yourself Ron Weasley, or better yet, find someone with common sense to help you!" And then she spun around and stormed up to the girl's dorm.  
  
"You know Ron, I could be wrong, but when you're worried about a friend, I've always found it best not to insult them." Harry told him mildly as he opened his Charms book.  
  
"Well I can't help that she's gone bloody daft over Malfoy!" Ron muttered rather remorsefully.   
  
  
  
Hermione threw her bag onto the floor, crawled onto her bed, and pulled the curtains around her.   
  
"How dare he? He's being ridiculous; they're both being ridiculous. Malfoy's not that bad, I'm not saying that's he a great guy or anything, but he isn't the worst scum on the earth." Hermione grumbled to herself.   
  
Ever since the trip to Hogsmeade, Hermione had stopped avoiding the library when she knew that he would be there. While they didn't exactly get along, their insults to each other seemed less cutting, and something closer to a friendly banter.   
  
Hermione rolled over and stared up at the canopy that covered her bed, it wasn't that she liked him. She just found herself not hating Malfoy as much as she use to. There was something about his eyes; the way they would flash and darken that made her feel somewhat strange. That day down in Hogsmeade had been strange as well. She had been so frightened down in that alley with Goyle coming closer to then. But part of her mind had refused to think of the danger and concerned itself only with the feeling of having Malfoy's arms around her. She had felt oddly safe, as if Malfoy would try and protect her from everything if he had to. It really made no sense to her. She hadn't told Ron and Harry about Lucius Malfoy and Goyle's father, they would only become more incensed that she had gone back to help Malfoy. At the time she had told them only that she wanted to run back to Honeydukes to get some more chocolate frogs. When she had found him sitting there in the dark like a lost child she'd only wanted to comfort him. Never once had Hermione ever thought that she'd want to comfort Malfoy, or that he would ever deserve comfort. Sometimes in the library, she almost felt that they were friends, but then Malfoy would completely change, reverting back into the nasty person that he usually was. Hermione just didn't understand; he seemed so lonely sometimes. Hermione gave a great sigh and pulled her blanket up to her chin and decided that she really didn't like Malfoy much at all, that she couldn't possibly like Malfoy.  
  
  
  
"Hey Granger, have you worked on anything from this crate?"   
  
Hermione glanced over to where Malfoy was standing bent over a crate in the corner of the room. "No, why?"  
  
"It's gibberish, all of it, whole books of nothing but gibberish." Malfoy held an old peeling book in his hands.  
  
Hermione quickly crossed the room and knelt next to it, "It can't all be nonsensical, O'leary has always been so meticulous with everything so far." She started to pull out books and flip through them. Malfoy was right; the tomes contained nothing but numbers.  
  
"Well obviously the old coot had really gone off his rocker by this time." Malfoy seemed highly annoyed that a whole box contained was now useless.   
  
"But it doesn't make any sense Malfoy, why would he write whole books of nothing but numbers? The rest of his research is so orderly." Hermione held a book in her lap, trying to discern what it must mean.   
  
"So Granger, it's Slytherin vs. Gryffindor this Saturday. We're going to flatten you're little friends you know." A malicious light was shining in Malfoy's eyes.  
  
"Of course you are," Hermione replied without looking up. Malfoy started and then realized that she must not be listening to him at all.  
  
"And Harry Potter is a complete idiot who isn't worth a knut as a seeker." Malfoy grinned at Hermione.  
  
"Mhmm..." Hermione agreed her brow was crinkled in concentration as she flipped through the pages of the book.  
  
"And you think that I am terribly handsome and easily the most charming bloke in the entire school." Malfoy supplied eagerly.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked suddenly turning to look at him.  
  
"Oh, just wondering if you were going to the Quidditch match this Saturday." Malfoy said quickly.   
  
"Of course I am, I have to support my house, not to mention Ron and Harry." Hermione told him.  
  
"Oh of course, because the fabulous Harry Potter doesn't have enough supporters, why don't you just start a fan club for your little boyfriend? Or wait; was it the Weasel that holds your heart? I can never remember" Malfoy gave her a dark glare.  
  
Hermione looked up at him in surprise, this meeting had been relatively uneventful so far, she would almost be willing to say that it had been pleasant.   
  
"What's wrong with you Malfoy?" She asked.  
  
"Nothing mudblood, I just get sick of listening to you go on and on about Potter and Weasley." Malfoy snatched his bag off the table and stormed from the room leaving a mystified Hermione behind.  
  
  
  
"Hermione," Ron whispered at her. Hermione looked straight ahead at Snape who was writing something on the board.  
  
"C'mon Hermione, I said I was sorry." Ron pleaded with her but she still refused to look at him.  
  
"Please Hermione..." He asked again and this time Hermione risked a glance out of the corner of her eye at him. She knew immediately that it was a mistake. Ron was starring at her with his big blue eyes, a melancholy puppy-dog look to them. He quirked his eyebrows at her and smiled slightly.  
  
"All right, all right, apology accepted now stop looking at me like that Ron." She returned his smile.   
  
Harry visibly relaxed next to her; she knew that he hated it when her and Ron weren't speaking to each other. Hermione returned her attention to Snape and started to copy down what ingredients they would need for their potion. Today they were supposed to be making an engorgement potion. It wasn't nearly as easy to control as the standard engorgement charm, which was probably the reason why Snape was making them do it.   
  
"So we need how many beetle eyes?" Harry asked as he started counting out a small pile.  
  
Hermione's eyes traveled down the list, "we need five beetle eyes."  
  
"I poured out to many," Ron said thoughtfully at his own pile, he glanced sideways at Harry who had looked up from his pile and then flicked it across the room to hit Crabbe in the back of the head. Crabbe spun around but Harry and Ron were both studiously cutting up lacewings. Harry and Ron started laughing quietly when he turned back around, a confused expression on his face.   
  
"I saw that Mr. Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor. Oh, and it looks like your potion is ready to be tested." Professor Snape stood glowering behind them. "Well Weasley, drink your potion."  
  
Ron looked dubiously down at his bubbling cauldron and then siphoned off a small beaker full and downed it in one gulp. There was a sudden popping sound and Ron's ears had suddenly swelled to four times their normal size. All of the Slytherins dissolved into cruel laughter. Ron's face had turned a brilliant shade of red. Snape walked down to the front of the class to write their homework on the board.   
  
"Nice look Weasley," Malfoy drawled at them from his corner. "You know, your ears remind me of a certain mudblood's teeth."  
  
Hermione flushed angrily and then grabbed the back of Ron's robes as he lunged towards Malfoy.  
  
"He's not worth it Ron, you know that Snape will stick you in detention if you attack Malfoy." Hermione spoke soothingly.  
  
"She's right Ron, I wouldn't be surprised if Snape found some way to stop you from playing tomorrow." Harry added, coming to Ron's other side and taking a secure hold on Ron's arm. "Just save it for the game, all right?"  
  
Ron turned to look at them and then nodded. "Yeah, we'll show him."   
  
  
  
Hermione sat in the stands between Ginny and Neville, Seamus and Dean sat in the row in front of them. She pulled her cloak tighter around her as an icy breeze blew around them. Looking at the dark gray that hung low over the forest, Hermione figured that it was going to start snowing soon. She looked at the clouds a little longer, thinking how they seemed to match a certain pair of eyes that she had become rather familiar with.   
  
"Oooh! Look Hermione, they've started!" Ginny squealed loudly and gripped Hermione's arm.   
  
The two teams had suddenly risen up into the air, and with Madame Hooch's whistle, the balls were released. The match was very fast paced; Harry had risen high above the players to watch for the snitch while Malfoy darted here and there farther below. Harry dived suddenly and Ginny gripped Hermione's arm harder and gave another squeal of excitement. But Harry pulled out of his dive empty handed. Ron blocked shot after shot delivered by the Slytherins and Hermione and Ginny were nearly beside themselves with delight at how well he was doing in Gryffindor's first game of the season.   
  
Ginny gripped Hermione's hand when a bludger almost slammed into one the twins. He smacked it and sent it spiraling away. Hermione watched the ball as it suddenly picked a target and made a beeline for Malfoy. Hermione watched wide-eyed as the ball flew straight toward his head, but Malfoy hadn't seen it yet, both he and Harry had noticed a glimmer of gold near the ground by the Slytherin goal post. Malfoy and Harry dived for it at the same time. The stands were on their feet, the two seekers zooming downward, and the horrible bludger was gaining on the unsuspecting Malfoy. Hermione gripped Ginny's hand hard and bit her lip, she wasn't watching Harry anymore, all of her attention was on Malfoy. They were both so close, only ten feet away, and then five. The bludger was going to hit Malfoy in the back of the head when he suddenly noticed it and veered to the side. Hermione let out a small cry and then Harry had the snitch. The game was over; Gryffindor had won by 180 points while Slytherin had nothing. Hermione watched as the bludgers were forced back into their box and Malfoy sank slowly to the ground and got off of his broom. Hermione realized that she was still clinging to Ginny's hand. The younger girl was looking at Hermione in shock, she had obviously noticed that Hermione hadn't been frightened for Harry, Hermione felt herself blush and she turned away quickly.  
  
"C'mon Ginny, let's go congratulate them." Hermione didn't wait for an answer as she started down the steps.   
  
"Hermione," Ginny called out, but Hermione only increased her pace.   
  
It seemed that all of Gryffindor house was waiting for the team to come out of their tent. They were immediately whisked up onto many shoulders and carried back towards the school in a noisy procession. Hermione and Ginny joined the group and headed towards the castle. Hermione knew that someone would go down to the kitchens and get food from the house elves, she knew that the whole house would be up for hours celebrating. But Hermione didn't feel like celebrating, she was glad that they had won, that Harry had won. But there was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that felt bad for Malfoy; he had been so close this time.   
  
Everyone was out of the stands now and heading towards the school. Hermione stopped at the great doors and looked back towards the field, sure enough, she could see one lone figure standing in the deepening shadows. Hermione stepped back from the crowd and watched as the rest of the Gryffindors made their way up the stairs, everyone laughing and talking happily. Hermione waited until almost all the students had come through the doors before she turned and walked back down the field. Malfoy was standing off to one side of the Quidditch pitch, it had become so dark now that the sun had set that Hermione could barely see him. His back was to her and he was staring towards the darkness above the forbidden forest.  
  
"Malfoy?" She called softly coming to stand next to him.  
  
He didn't turn to look at her. "What do you want Granger?" He asked bitterly.  
  
"I...I just..." But Hermione's voice trailed off, she didn't really know why she had come out here.  
  
"Let me guess," Malfoy turned towards her, "you've somehow got the notion into your head that we're friends and you felt the need to come comfort me after the crushing defeat? Is that it Granger?" His eyes glinted angrily and he took a threatening step towards her.   
  
Hermione wished suddenly that she was inside where it was safe and warm, not outside with Malfoy were his eyes were colder than any breeze that blew around her.  
  
"You're right, I don't know what I was thinking," Hermione started to turn away but Malfoy suddenly grabbed her arm.   
  
"Mal..." Hermione started but was cut off when Malfoy pressed his lips against hers hard. Hermione stiffened; Malfoy only pulled her closer, kissing her harder, so hard that it hurt. Hermione felt a tiny whimper of pain issue from her and then Malfoy suddenly become very gentle. He wrapped an arm around her back and kissed her deeply, his mouth was surprisingly warm. Hermione was too shocked to push him away. A little alarm in the back of her head had gone off, it was screaming at her that this was Malfoy, her enemy, but Hermione decided suddenly that she didn't care. She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck and kissed him back. Malfoy was so startled that he almost let go of her. He got over his surprise quickly though and deepened the kiss. Malfoy pulled her closer still and Hermione felt like the world was spinning around her. That odd quiver had started again in the pit of her stomach. Hermione felt as if all the strength had left her and she was glad that Malfoy's strong arms were around her, holding her up. He broke off the kiss but didn't pull away. His arms clutched her tighter as if afraid to let her go and he buried his face in soft curls that shrouded the curve of her neck. Hermione felt so warm and protected, this moment could go on forever and she wouldn't care. She closed her eyes smiling, and then Malfoy spoke in a low husky voice.  
  
"What are you doing to me mudblood?"   
  
Hermione stiffened, the world suddenly came crashing down around her, this was Malfoy. She could feel anger swelling deep in her along with a shock of pain. Hermione shoved Malfoy as hard as she could away from her. He stumbled back, surprised.   
  
"Granger," he tried to grab her but Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at him.  
  
"Stay away from me Malfoy," she hissed, her hand gave a slight tremble. Malfoy took a step towards her. She couldn't believe how stupid she had been, how could she have let him do that? How could she have liked it? She felt tears begin to fill her eyes and she spun and ran back towards the castle.   
  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
**Okay...... that's all that I have written right now.... But I'm obviously not done. Hopefully Malfoy will stop being a prat in the near future... we shall all have to see. But anyhoo..... please Read & Review!!!  



	10. Fall-out?

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.... Except for the fairly flimsy plot. :)  
  
***Thank you to everyone that has reviewed me! I really appreciate it. I know that it takes a long time to get to the romance part of it, but I'm trying to be subtle here.   
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Draco methodically counted out the caterpillar eggs that he needed for his potion. Professor Snape was busy writing the rest of the ingredients on the board and seemed oblivious to the low murmur that was coming from Potter and Weasley. Draco gritted his teeth and started to grind the eggs in his mortar. He refused to look at whatever it was that Potter and Weasley found so amusing. Looking at Potter and Weasley would mean looking at her as well.   
  
"Mudblood," he hissed under his breath.   
  
Draco had been fuming inwardly ever since that night a little less than a week ago. He had waited for the fall out from his actions to come. For the Slytherins to disown him, for the whispers that would follow him through the halls, and for Potter and Weasley's furious glares. But nothing had come of that night out on the Quidditch pitch except for Granger's absolute avoidance of him and a strange emptiness that he easily dismissed as nerves over the game. He'd believed that Granger had ignored him before, but it was different this time. She didn't meet him in the library anymore and he never saw her in their room. She was still doing an equal share of the work, but when she did it, he had no idea. The day after the Quidditch game he had waited up in the room off the library all day, partly to avoid the superior looks that he had been receiving from the Gryffindors, but also to confront Granger. He assured himself that it wasn't because he wanted to see her, but because he wanted to make sure that she kept her mouth shut about his transgression. But she never came. In Arithmancy she sat as far from him as possible considering that they shared a table. Draco found her stony silence more infuriorating than any taunt she had given him. What made it worse was that she acted like he wasn't even there. How dare she try to ignore a Malfoy?  
  
Crabbe and Goyle flanked Draco as he started to leave the class. Wonder-boy Potter and Weasley were waiting for Granger who was having trouble getting her book bag to snap shut, she always seemed to have problems working the clasp. He had an odd inclination to stop and do it for her, but Thomas, another of the blasted Gryffindors had suddenly leaned over Granger's shoulder and did it instead. Draco felt a flash of anger as Granger graced the other boy with a brilliant smile. Draco brushed past them and out into the hall, Crabbe and Goyle struggling to keep up with him.   
  
"Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco turned sharply and found himself standing before the Hogwart's Headmaster. Crabbe and Goyle both stepped back from the aging professor and cast nervous looks at Draco.  
  
"If I may have a word?" Professor Dumbledore smiled amiably at Draco and then turned and walked away, leaving Draco no choice but to follow after him.   
  
Professor Dumbledore walked merrily through one corridor and then another, smiling and nodding at the passing students. Draco was beginning to wonder how much longer they were going to keep walking when Dumbledore finally stopped. Draco looked around and saw nothing but a stone gargoyle. The headmaster turned to the door and said something in a low voice that Draco couldn't quite catch. The gargoyle stretched its stone legs and ambled aside. Draco's eyes widened but that was the only indication of surprise that he let pass. The headmaster only chuckled softly to himself at this and led Draco up to his office.  
  
Draco sat stoically in front of Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster was gazing at him in a way that was making Draco very nervous. The expression that the headmaster wore was one of expectation. With a start Draco realized that he was waiting for him to start talking.  
  
"You wanted to speak to me Professor Dumbledore?" Draco fought hard against the derisive drawl that wanted to creep into his voice. Professor Dumbledore might be a crazy old coot, but he was powerful.  
  
"Well Mr. Malfoy, I was hoping that you had something to tell me." Dumbledore looked at Draco, his blue eyes twinkling.  
  
Draco nervously looked away from the old man. It wasn't that he had told Granger not to say anything, but for some reason he had expected her not too.   
  
Dumbledore waited a few more minutes for Draco to say something but finally he sighed slightly and pulled a letter from his desk.  
  
"Your father has sent for you. You are supposed to take the train from Hogsmeade back to London. He seems to think that your personal safety is at risk under my care." Dumbledore stopped and waited for Draco's reaction. His brilliant eyes had momentarily stopped twinkling.  
  
Draco wanted to jump to his feet and yell no, tell Dumbledore that he didn't want to go to Lucius, explain to him that Lucius would kill him or worse. He wanted to tell Dumbledore everything but all that came from his mouth was, "I see. When will I be leaving?"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I have become aware of a rumor about Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. I think they may have made an appearance during your last visit there. Am I correct?" Professor Dumbledore stopped again to wait for Draco's reaction.  
  
Draco clenched his hands and glared at the floor. All of the fears that he'd had about returning to the manor suddenly transformed into anger. He had trusted her not to tell. Before he could stop himself, before he could remember that he was sitting in the office of an acclaimed muggle-lover, he hissed out a word that would have sent most wizards into a fit of rage.  
  
"Mudblood"  
  
Dumbledore arched an eyebrow at him. "I assume that by that delightful adjective you are referring to Ms. Granger?"  
  
Draco continued to glare at the floor. He felt betrayed, he knew better than to actually trust someone, especially one of Potter's friends. They were probably all up in their common room now listening to Granger retell the story.  
  
"Let me assure you Mr. Malfoy that Ms. Granger has not betrayed any of your confidences."   
  
Draco looked up and met Dumbledore's sparkling eyes and he realized that the headmaster wasn't just referring to the Hogsmeade trip. He could feel himself start to flush and stood up suddenly.   
  
"Was there anything else that you wanted to tell me headmaster?" He didn't want to sit here with the older man any more. He was getting very tired of the knowing glint in the headmaster's eyes.   
  
"No Mr. Malfoy, there wasn't anything more." Professor Dumbledore told him, the amusement was gone from his eyes as he watched Draco leave his office, an expression of pity on his face at the boy's retreating figure.  
  
  
  
Draco sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his half packed trunk. He wasn't quite sure why he was bothering to pack, if Lucius was angry enough, he certainly wasn't going to need his belongings. He sighed and started to go over Quidditch moves in his head. Concentrating on Quidditch helped keep his mind off of the more pressing matters. He soon found himself replaying the recent game in his head, looking for where his mistakes were. But as he thought about the game it all seemed to speed up and he knew where it was leading. He tried not to let the moment repeat in his mind, but it was already too late and he could see her warm brown eyes filled with concern and doubt. He had kissed her because he had been angry. Angry at Potter, angry at the world for letting get so close to the Snitch and then fail to the wonder-boy yet again. He had wanted to hurt Potter, to take something that belonged to him and make it his own. He had kissed her hard, wishing that Potter could see what he was doing to his girl. And then it had all changed, he wasn't angry anymore; he was only aware of her and that suddenly she was kissing him back. And for the first time, he realized that she might not belong to Potter. For one brief moment he had even forgotten what she was, but then she pushed him away. How dare she push him away? He hadn't been able to believe it. He was Draco Malfoy after, he was handsome and charming and he knew it. And Granger, well Granger was just a mudblood, but she'd had the nerve to push him away. Once it was over he had realized almost right away his mistake. He had allowed bushy-haired, know-it-all Granger to kiss him. He was furious with her, and with himself.   
  
"Damn mudblood. I hate her." He muttered.   
  
He knew that he hated her, every time he saw her with her friends, she seemed to have so many smiling Gryffindors around her, he felt so angry. He wanted to grab her and shake her when he saw her with all of them looking so happy. But he couldn't understand why he wanted to see her now.   
  
"She's only a mudblood."   
  
Draco sat up and kicked his trunk closed as he walked out of the dorm. He had no idea where Crabbe and Goyle were and he didn't really care. He casually strolled the corridors not really knowing where he was going. Draco eventually found himself outside of the library doors. Walking through the various shelves he felt a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time. There weren't any Death Eaters in here, no Voldemort to join, certainly no Lucius, and no Granger either.   
  
He sat in a straight backed chair up in their room and looked around at the piles of charts, there was still so much to do, so much that he wasn't going to get to finish. He knew that she still came here regularly, but he couldn't figure out when. The rolls of charts were always moved around a bit differently than when he had last been there. In the fireplace, fresh ashes lay in the grate as if she had been here last night. But that was impossible, he had been there last night, and he had worked without a fire.   
  
"So when could she possibly have come here and had a fire?" Draco mused to himself as he stood looking at the fireplace.   
  
He looked at the dark ashes and pictured it burning merrily, crackling and popping. He could see her sitting at the desk with her brow crinkled in concentration. A different image came to him then as he thought, she sat before him, her eyes casting widely about the room trying to avoid his gaze. Her cinnamon eyes coming to rest on the fire as she had told him about Potter's cloak.  
  
"Of course, the cloak."   
  
Draco couldn't believe that he hadn't realized it before. Granger must be sneaking into the library after hours. It made sense, he would never have thought that Granger could be so daring, but there really wasn't any other way that she could be getting her work done. Draco glanced at his watch; the great hall would have stopped serving supper two hours ago. He only had to wait.   
  
  
  
It was midnight when the door to the room opened quietly. He couldn't see her, but he could sense her presence. Draco sat in a high-backed chair facing away from the door. The room was dark and she didn't know that he was there. He sat without moving, simply waiting for her to come closer. The door closed behind her and a tiny click told him that she had locked it. He could hear her moving gingerly around the crates in the dark room. She knelt before the fireplace and whispered a spell under her breath and flames sprung up happily, illuminating the dark room. She gave a small sigh of relief and turned around to see Draco. Her eyes went wide and she tensed but Draco was already out of the chair. She had only managed to take a step back when he grabbed both of her arms and jerked her away from the fire. Seeing her standing there; illuminated by the fire like some sort ethereal being looking at him like he was monster had made him furious. He jerked her around and shoved her back into a chair. A little gasp escaped her but she didn't cry out. Draco let go of her arms and she sank back into the chair. He grabbed the armrests and leaned towards her, glaring. She shrunk farther back into the chair and just stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.  
  
"Don't look at me like that." He hissed at her, he found that he didn't like her looking at him like that; it was somewhat disturbing.  
  
"Then stop scaring me," her voice was barely above a whisper and she trembled slightly.   
  
Draco stiffened and then let go of her chair. He slumped down into the chair across from her and rubbed his forehead. He expected her to try and escape the room now that he wasn't forcing her to stay, but she sat without moving.   
  
"It took me a while to figure out how you were getting work done without my knowing it." He told her softly.  
  
"I didn't want to see you." She told him in that whispering voice of hers that seemed so shaken.   
  
Granger had finally stood up and gone over to pick her book bag off of the floor where it had dropped when he had grabbed her. He tried not to notice that her hand seemed to tremble when she reached out for it.   
  
"Well I didn't want to see you either." He snapped at her. He didn't know why he was here. He didn't want to see her, but here he was and he didn't understand.   
  
"Stupid Mudblood," he muttered.   
  
Granger looked up at him, her fearful eyes were quickly beginning to acquire a furious glint. She seemed to swell with rage in front of him and then she whipped her bag right at him. Draco was so astonished that he only just managed to duck in time.  
  
"How dare you? Who do you think you are?" Granger's hands were clenched into fists and she was trembling with rage.  
  
"Me?!" Draco had jumped to his feet after ducking away from the bag. "I'm the one that is stuck with a mudblood!"   
  
Granger's eyes flashed at him and then she lunged towards him. She moved faster than Draco would have imagined and before he could even react she had slapped him. Draco's jaw dropped and he stared at her in shock but then tensed as she tried to hit him again. He grabbed her hands and gave her a hard shake.   
  
"I hate that name! I hate it so much! How dare you call me that? How dare you call me something dirty like that when you're only a step away from being a death eater. I hate it, and I hate you!" She struggled against him but he held her arms firmly and leaned closer to her.  
  
"Well you won't have to put up with it anymore Granger," he whispered menacingly.   
  
"Please, don't tell me that my dreams have actually come true?" She snapped.  
  
"I'm going home Granger, back to the manor, back to Lucius." He told her acidly.   
  
"What? Y...you can't do that. You can't go there. Not after what he did." Her furious eyes again held that concerned warmth that he found so compelling. She had stopped struggling against him and just stood staring.   
  
"You don't even know what he did Granger." He told her and then released her arms. He stepped back from her and looked into the fire. He felt suddenly tired.  
  
"Well I can guess, I know that it wasn't anything good. You can't go." She told him sharply.  
  
"He's sent for me, I don't have a choice. I'm leaving in a few days for London." Draco didn't look at her but was very surprised when she touched his shoulder; he hadn't heard her approach.  
  
"Talk to Dumbledore, tell him what happened. You can trust him. If you tell him that you don't want to go, he won't let your father take you." Her amber eyes were fixed on his now.  
  
"That crazy old man can't help me." He snapped at her.  
  
"He's not crazy, he's brilliant!" Granger's eyes flashed angrily for a moment but then were filled with concern again. "Draco, you can't go back, you're not one of them."   
  
He started when she used his name, a sudden memory came to him, he hadn't remembered until now. "Draco please..." She had used his name before, after the manticore attack. It sounded strangely right coming from her.   
  
"How do you know that I'm not one of them?" He asked her softly.  
  
"Because you told me that you weren't, and I believe you." She whispered.  
  
Draco's eyes widened when she said this. He could see the trust in her eyes. He raised a hand and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail back behind her ear. Granger stiffened with this contact but she didn't back away. Draco let his hand gently touch her cheek and his fingers delicately traced her jawbone. Granger trembled ever so slightly. Draco leaned towards her, he had no idea why he was doing what he was doing, but he gently let his lips brush against hers. His fingers found their way to the back of her neck and he let himself stroke her curly hair. He looked at Granger's face; her eyes had drifted shut as she waited for him to kiss her. Forcing all of his doubts down, Draco tightened his grip on her hair and kissed her. She was leaning into him and her delicate hand came to rest on his shoulder. Draco deepened his kiss, wondering how kissing Granger could be better than kissing anyone else. He pulled her closer and pressed down harder on her mouth, caressing her lips with his tongue. The slender hand on his shoulder tightened on his robe and then abruptly pushed him back.   
  
"I...I need to go." She whispered in a hoarse voice and pulled away from him. "You'll talk to Dumbledore, right?"   
  
Draco nodded at her. He was forcing himself to take deep breaths, to calm down. He didn't understand it. At least the other time that he had kissed her he'd had a reason for doing it. This time though, there was no reason, no excuse. Granger pulled a silvery cloak out of her bag and slipped it on, she glanced at him before she pulled it up over her head. The door opened, closed, and then she was gone. Draco realized that he liked kissing her, and even more disturbing, a part of him wanted to kiss her more.  
  
  
  
**There will be another chapter! Please read and review!!!  



	11. Diablo

  
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!!! Mwahahahaha...err...sorry about that.  
  
I apologize for taking so long in posting this. It's been done, waiting cheerfully in my computer's hard drive for me to post it. However... I recently discovered the joys of Diablo II on battlenet, so... I have been playing it virtually non-stop. Thus I named the chapter in homage of this. Please read and review!  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
"Ron"  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and poked Ron in the side with her fork.  
  
"Wh...what?" Ron jumped nearly half a foot and broke his gaze away from the Hufflepuff table where he had been ogling Susan Bones ever since she had come into the great hall for supper.  
  
"Honestly Ron," Hermione said with a hint of annoyance, "all it takes is a pretty face with you."  
  
"Well you didn't have to attack me!" Ron grumbled while gingerly rubbing his side.  
  
"Ron," Fred said to his brother, "it's time that you knew the truth about out dear little Hermione."  
  
"Sorry Hermione, we can't keep your secret any longer, it's time Ron knew the torrid truth." George added.  
  
Fred leaned towards Ron and Hermione and whispered "you see Ron, Hermione is actually a fork wielding maniac!"   
  
Fred voice had risen in volume and many Gryffindors were now watching the four with a mild degree of interest.   
  
"Now really. Ron could you..." but Hermione was cut off by George.  
  
"She's crazy Ron, crazy..." George gave a maniacal laugh.  
  
"Ron," Hermione interjected again, "could you please pass me the kidney pie?"  
  
"Wh...what pie?" He asked while not looking at her. The twins were putting on quite a show as they tried to fork each other in some strange medieval duel.   
  
"The one by your hand Ron."   
  
Hermione tapped Ron on the shoulder but he had gone completely still as the pretty Hufflepuff that he had become very interested in the last few days walked by.  
  
"Oh never mind then," she snapped and pulled out her wand.  
  
"accio pie"  
  
The kidney pie whisked past Ron, missing the tip of his nose by a few mere millimeters and landed neatly in Hermione's outstretched hands.  
  
"Show-off," he muttered darkly.  
  
Hermione had just begun to cut herself a piece of the pie when Harry slipped into the seat next to her.   
  
"Hullo Harry, where have you been?" She asked as she passed him the pie.  
  
"Thought you weren't going to make it to dinner." Ron told him, finally able to have a normal conversation now that Susan had left the hall.  
  
"Well, I was talking to Hagrid outside the library, I had to return a book, and he told me that Dumbledore has decided..." but at that moment, Dumbledore himself stood up at the staff table.  
  
Professor Dumbledore waited patiently for the hall to quiet down. The hush spread quickly as every student in the hall turned to watch the tall man in vibrant, purple robes.   
  
"I do hope that you all will pardon me for interrupting our truly delicious dinner but there is an announcement that I wanted to make."  
  
Hermione glanced at Harry and knew immediately that whatever it was that he had been about to tell them, it had something to do with this. Harry watched the headmaster with interested expectation.  
  
"Last year's Yule Ball was such a success that we have decided to hold it again this Christmas." Dumbledore beamed as a ripple of chatter followed his words.  
  
"And," Dumbledore continued, "since we all had such a delightful time last year, I have decided to open the ball to everyone. All years will be allowed to attend."  
  
The hall listened on in amazed silence. The younger years had never been allowed to attend a Yule Ball.  
  
"Now, I think that I have prolonged your supper for long enough, thank you for your patience." Dumbledore smiled at them again and sat back down.  
  
The noise that followed Dumbledore's last words were near deafening. Ron, Harry, and Hermione leaned in together to whisper to each other as fellow students talked excitedly around them.  
  
"But I thought that the Yule Ball was a Triwizard tradition?" Ron asked.  
  
"It is," Hermione replied, her brow crinkling as she thought. "According to Hogwarts A History, the Yule Ball is held only during a tournament year. I don't understand why they would change that."  
  
"And what about letting the first, second, and third years go?" Ron asked her. Hermione only shrugged.  
  
"I know," Harry said softly as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening.  
  
"The Yule Ball is only supposed be every three years. But do you remember how most people stayed at Hogwarts last Christmas because of it?"  
  
Hermione and Ron nodded.  
  
"Dumbledore wants to keep as many students at Hogwarts as possible due to Voldemort." Harry said.  
  
Ron looked shocked as he tried not to flinch when Harry said Voldemort. "Hagrid told you that?"  
  
"You know how Hagrid is, he let it slip. He told me that I wouldn't be bored this Christmas because everyone would be here for the ball. He told me that it was the best way to keep an eye on everyone."   
  
"Things must be getting really bad if Dumbledore wants to keep all the students here during the holidays. It's funny though, there hasn't been any mention of dark activity in the Daily Prophet." Hermione told them quietly.  
  
"The Ministry is probably trying to keep it quiet." Ron agreed.  
  
"Yeah," Harry muttered, "they'll try and pretend that it isn't happening until the day that Voldemort comes knocking on their door."  
  
"Would you please not say the name?" Ron pleaded.  
  
"What Weasley, going through a list of names, trying to see who you and Potter can bribe into going with you to the ball?"   
  
Hermione stiffened when Malfoy's drawl cut through their conversation. Before she could even swivel in her seat Harry and Ron were on their feet. Malfoy was standing right behind them, wearing his usual smirk, his handsome features twisted in malice. Crabbe and Goyle stood a few feet behind him.   
  
"Potter, at least, has a bit of money, but Weasley I don't know how you'll manage. Maybe you can convince some girl to accompany you out of pity." Malfoy's said amusedly.  
  
Ron dove for Malfoy and managed to land one solid punch before Harry joined the fray. Whether Harry was trying to pull Ron back or hold Malfoy down, Hermione couldn't tell, Snape got there first.  
  
"Potter! Weasley! What do you think you're doing?!" Snape growled as he pulled the boys off of Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy started it!" Ron snapped, his face angry and red.  
  
"Professor Snape, I only came over to here to give Granger a book for out Arithmancy project." Malfoy pulled an old tome from his bag and held it out to Hermione. "And then Potter and Weasley just attacked me."  
  
"Detention Potter, you too Weasley. Fighting is against the rules, as you well know!" Snape glowered down at them.  
  
Hermione realized that Malfoy was still holding the book out to her. She recognized it to be one of the O'Leary books.   
  
"Take it Granger, there is something that you really aught to see in there."   
  
Hermione glanced up from the book and met Malfoy's eyes. The dark slate seemed to look right into her. She felt herself begin to blush and she looked away. But Hermione did take the book from him. He gave her one more piercing look before leaving.  
  
Hermione turned back around in her seat and started to flip through the book. She was trying hard not to listen to Ron who was currently comparing Malfoy and Snape to something exceedingly unpleasant. As she delicately flipped through the yellowing pages, a folded piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, she realized that it was a note.  
  
"Library, after supper." Was written across it in a neat script that she knew belonged to Malfoy.  
  
Hermione felt her breath catch for a second and she quickly placed the note back into the book. She casually turned to look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy had his head tilted back while a simpering Pansy was holding something to his bruised cheek. He seemed to become aware of Hermione's gaze. Malfoy tilted his head back down and met her eyes. Hermione felt herself nod quickly at him and then she turned back to listen to Ron telling Harry what he'd like to do to Malfoy.  
  
  
  
Hermione walked up the silent stairs away from the Great Hall. The excited chatter faded as she turned down one darkened hall after another. Not for the last time, Hermione wondered what in the world was she thinking. She had actually agreed to meet Malfoy in a secluded place. Hermione felt a butterfly flutter aimlessly around in her stomach.   
  
"Stupid Malfoy," she muttered under breath.   
  
Even though Hermione dreaded being alone with Malfoy, she knew that there was no way she could turn him down. No matter how many times that she told herself that she couldn't care less about what happened to the Slytherin boy, she could ignore the overwhelming sense of dread that she felt when she thought of him leaving Hogwarts. Malfoy hadn't told her what happened in Hogsmeade with his father. But Hermione was a clever girl and the expression of rage that Lucius Malfoy had on his face as he searched for his son had made her blood run cold.  
  
"If he hasn't talked to Dumbledore yet, I'll just have to make him go!" She said firmly to herself.  
  
Hermione knew that Malfoy didn't want to go to Lucius; she knew that he didn't want to be a Death Eater. This surprised Hermione more than anything else. Well, not everything else, once again Hermione had to force back the sensations that she had felt when Malfoy had touched her cheek, when he pulled her close, when he...  
  
"Stop it! Stop thinking about it," Hermione scolded herself as she turned down another corridor on her way to the library.  
  
It wasn't that she liked what Malfoy had done, what she had done as well, she just couldn't get it out of her mind. And as Hermione reached the library doors she was able to convince herself, and not for the last time, that she didn't like Malfoy, didn't like him at all.  
  
  
  
Hermione paused before their room, taking a deep, steadying breath she opened the door. A warm fire was burning cheerfully in the grate and Malfoy was sitting in a chair at the large desk. He glanced up at her and for a moment Hermione saw something flash in his gray eyes, something warm and inviting, but just as suddenly as it had appeared it was gone and Hermione found herself looking at the same Draco Malfoy that she had always despised.   
  
"Wasn't sure if you were going to show Granger. I figured that Potter and Weasley were going to keep you there forever." Malfoy told her in his usual drawl.  
  
"You know, you didn't have to get them detention just to pass me a note Malfoy." Hermione responded as she pulled the door shut behind her.  
  
"True, but why pass up such a wonderful opportunity?" Malfoy smirked at her.  
  
"You know Malfoy, you are such a prat sometimes!" Hermione snapped.  
  
Hermione stiffly sat down in the chair across from him, she was rather thankful that a whole desk separated them. He watched her silently now, a lock of his light blonde hair falling over his face, Hermione had to fight down the urge to lean over and brush it back over his head. She shivered slightly as she thought about her fingers running through his silvery-gold hair.   
  
The silence lingered in the room for several minutes as Hermione sat uncomfortably while Malfoy surveyed her quietly. Her palms were beginning to get clammy and she could feel herself start to flush as Malfoy continued to stare at her.  
  
"Well?" She asked, hoping that she sounded calmer than she felt.  
  
"Well?" Malfoy replied; he seemed lost in thought.  
  
"Well did you talk to Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, desperately wanting to know the answer, but dreading it as well.  
  
Malfoy seemed to realize how much she wanted to know and he stretched languidly and glanced out the window.  
  
"Lovely night isn't it? Quite a moon out there, don't you think Granger?" His superior smirk deepened.  
  
"Damn it Malfoy, if you didn't talk to him, I swear I'll drag you there!" Hermione stood up, her eyes flashing.  
  
"Hmm...that could be interesting, don't you think?" Malfoy returned his gaze to her.  
  
Hermione tightened her hands into fists and looked down at the table, she hated that this was so hard for her. She hated the fact that she was worried, terribly worried, over him.   
  
Malfoy sighed softly and Hermione looked up at him, the cold smirk was gone and she was suddenly reminded of the lost little boy that she had found in the alley in Hogsmeade.  
  
"I talked to Dumbledore and I'm staying. I don't know what he'll say to Lucius, I know that he'll be furious. But then, I doubt that Dumbledore will care, he's broken off from the Ministry hasn't he?" Malfoy asked in a soft, defeated voice.  
  
Hermione nodded at him, "yes he has. Fudge won't accept the fact that Voldemort has returned."   
  
"So, why even bother fighting?" Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and pushed back the lock that had been bothering Hermione ever since she had entered the room. "If Dumbledore and the Ministry are divided, what chance does anyone have against Voldemort?"   
  
Hermione's eyes widened as the pushed back lock revealed a black eye. She couldn't fight back the smile that spread across her face at the sight. Malfoy looked at her curiously.  
  
"What's so funny Granger?" He asked.  
  
"Nothing just pleased to know that you didn't escape unscathed Malfoy." She told him with a warm smile.  
  
"Lucky hit, that's all."   
  
Hermione could almost swear that Malfoy smiled at her.   
  
"You know, you don't always have to be such a prat to everyone." She told him softly.  
  
"Of course I do, someone has to keep Potter and Weasley in line." He told her cheerfully.  
  
"Malfoy, what did he do? Your father, why was he looking for you in Hogsmeade?"   
  
The words tumbled form her mouth before she could stop them. Hermione had wanted to ask him that ever since it happened, but she hadn't dared. But she felt rather headstrong with relief now that she knew that he wasn't about to be shipped off to his doom.   
  
"Lucius and I were just having a chat about my future plans." Malfoy told her calmly, his voice emotionless.  
  
"Malfoy..." Hermione murmured softly.   
  
"Look Granger, what do you want me to say? What, do you really want to hear that my father would gladly kill me if Voldemort told him too? That Lucius will probably kill me anyway despite what your precious headmaster says? What do you want me to say Granger?" Malfoy's gray eyes darkened dangerously and then he broke off and looked away from her.  
  
Malfoy ran his hands through his hair again and then rested his face against his palms, elbows propped on the table. Hermione reached across the desk and gently touched his hand; he jerked up and stared at her. Hermione immediately pulled her hand back and cringed slightly back into her seat, fighting the blush that was threatening to creep across her face.   
  
"Malfoy, it'll be all right I think. You're safe in Hogwarts here with Dumbledore." Hermione told him once she had found her voice.  
  
Malfoy gave a derisive laugh, "oh yes, because Dumbledore has done an excellent job keeping Potter safe!"   
  
Hermione paled, as if she needed reminding of how often Harry was in danger. As if she didn't already spend most of her free time worrying about him and Ron. Hermione found herself briefly wondering if she was going to be worrying about Malfoy all the time as well now. Hermione bit her lower lip and studied the intricate carving on the side of the large table that separated them. Feeling his eyes upon her, Hermione glanced up. The expression that Malfoy had was quite unreadable, but Hermione felt a flicker of apprehension, and images from their past encounter flashed through her mind. She bolted up from her seat nearly knocking her chair over.   
  
"The library will be closing soon," she announced, hoping that he didn't pick up on the slightly higher pitch of her voice.  
  
"And you've seemed so opposed to being out after hours before Granger."   
  
"Look, I don't want to get into trouble Malfoy."   
  
Hermione rummaged through a pile of scrolls in a nearby crate and pulled out a few to work on up in the common room. She walked to the door and turned and looked at him. Malfoy hadn't moved at all, his eyes lingered on hers and then he looked back into the fire.  
  
"I...I'm glad that you're staying Malfoy." She said softly, surprised that these words could ever come from her.  
  
Malfoy didn't say anything and his eyes never left the dancing flames in the fireplace.  
  
  
  
Hermione pulled her winter cloak tighter around her and wished that she had brought something warm to drink out with her. She glanced upwards to where the Gryffindor Quidditch team was practicing. Harry waved down to her from where he hovered high above everyone else as he waited for the snitch to make an appearance. Hermione generally enjoyed watching the Quidditch practice, but today was a little too cold to be outside for so long. Hermione rubbed her hands together and exhaled deeply, smiling softly as her breath frosted around her.  
  
"Hello Hermione."   
  
Hermione looked down and saw Dean Thomas climbing the steps towards her.  
  
"Hello Dean, how are you?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
Dean smiled warmly and sat down. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled a muggle thermos out. Hermione broke into a large grin and huddled closer to him.   
  
"And what do you have there?" She asked with an inquisitive smile.  
  
"Hot cider, the house elves have been brewing it all day down in the kitchens. Seamus and I finally decided that it was worth a visit down there to get some." Dean poured some of the golden-brown liquid into the small cup that served as the lid for the thermos and handed it to Hermione.  
  
"Thank you Dean, it really is freezing out here. I don't know why I agreed to come watch them practice, I could be doing something useful." She told him wistfully.  
  
"What like Arithmancy?" Dean grinned, "Watching Quidditch is better than Arithmancy any day, only thing that could be better would be a soccer game."  
  
"Why must all my friends be sports fanatics?" Hermione asked in pained tone.  
  
"Well, actually, Hermione. Speaking of friends, I was wondering if you might, well what I mean is, since we're friends and all," Dean bashfully looked down at their shoes. "I was thinking well, I mean you're probably already going with Ron or Harry, but if you're not, and since we're friends." Dean paused and looked at Hermione. "Do you want to go to the ball with me?"  
  
Hermione smiled, "No, I'm not going with Ron or Harry, they decided that if they had to be subjected to yet another ball, they were going to go without dates."   
  
Dean looked somewhat relieved by this new knowledge.  
  
"I'd like to go with you Dean, it would be very nice." Hermione told him. "Oh look, I think they're done."  
  
Dean turned to look out on the pitch as the Gryffindor team descended to the ground.   
  
"You want to go down and meet them?" He asked her.  
  
"Sure." Hermione stood up and drank the last of her cider, enjoying the blissful warmth that it provided.  
  
Dean packed the thermos away and then stood back, waiting for Hermione to finish packing up her things. She looked up at him and he gave a warm smile, Hermione could almost swear that he was blushing slightly before he looked away.   
  
Hermione smiled to herself as she pulled her bag up onto her shoulder, she liked Dean, he was nice.   
  
"Oh yes," a part of her mind whispered, "very nice, safe too."  
  
"So what's wrong with safe?" Hermione asked herself, "I like safe, better than the alternative."   
  
An image of Malfoy suddenly sprang to mind, looking lost and lonely. Malfoy looking at her with that expression that she didn't understand but made little butterflys flit around her stomach. Dean certainly didn't give her butterflies.  
  
"Why am I thinking about Malfoy again? Maybe Ron's right, maybe I am going crazy." She thought.  
  
"Yeah," the voice piped up again, "you wish that was the reason."  
  
"Oh shut up!" Hermione snapped in annoyance.   
  
Dean glanced back at Hermione over his shoulder. Hermione flushed when she realized that the last bit had been outloud. She picked up her pace and caught up with Dean and then proceeded down to the field. Silently, she resolved to not think about Malfoy anymore.  
  
_______________________________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter of course so please Read & Review!!  



	12. Discussing the Ball

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling!  
  
I'm sorry that this has taken me so long to post, I've been so distracted lately (my web page, not Diablo this time!) that I've been putting this off. I also wasn't sure how I was going to do this chapter...I had thought that the Yule Ball would be in this chapter..... I was wrong. :) But that's okay, we'll get there, I swear!  
  
  
  
  
  
Draco leaned casually against the paddock fence and let his eyes wander bemusedly over the mix of Gryffindors and Slytherins. He let his gaze linger on Granger, she was standing off to one side of the large clearing in front of Hagrid's hut with Potter and Weasley. They weren't paying the least amount of attention to the half-giant as they talked in muted voices to each other. From time to time one of them would glance nervously over their shoulder to make sure that no one was listening. Granger looked back and her brown curls caught the bright sunlight. Draco was surprised as the normally deep brown turned light and auburn. Not that he was at all interested in the surprising array of color that Granger's hair had. She seemed to become aware of his interest and looked at him. Granger seemed on the verge of smiling but changed her mind when he sneered at her.   
  
A loud booming voice drew Draco's eyes away from Granger and towards the center of the paddock where Hagrid had some great new monster.   
  
"This 'ere 's a bezekiras. Watch it Finnigan, don' wanna get te close te it."   
  
Draco snorted derisively; the creature resembled nothing more than a rather large lion. Unlike a normal lion though, Hagrid's new 'pet' was brilliant and glowing. It's thick mane shimmered in the light and made looking at it almost painful.   
  
The bezekiras, which was sleeping at the moment, was at least seven feet long, and would probably stand more than five feet tall. The great oaf was listing off all of its magical capabilities but Draco didn't really care. It was the last day of class before winter break and all he really wanted to do was to stay warm and keep an eye on the amazing trio.   
  
Thunderous barks snapped him back to attention as a large black boarhound flashed passed him. The brute that Hagrid liked to call a dog easily jumped the fence and growled menacingly at the sleeping lion. The cat lazily opened one eye and then stretched languidly. It surveyed its surrounding with vague interest. The dog gave a low growl and moved towards the great feline. The cat yawned pleasantly and then swiped the dog across its long snout.   
  
The dog gave a terrible cry and fled back across the paddock. The cat wasn't tired of the little game however, and it quickly followed the large dog back over the fence.   
  
Draco watched with growing interest as the large cat examined the surrounding students.   
  
"Now y' ter all stay calm and don' go runnin around." Hagrid said quietly.   
  
But like most animals, magical or not, the bezekiras could sense fear. It turned its large golden eyes upon Longbottom and hissed. The idiot Gryffindor gave a hysterical shriek and turned to run towards the castle.   
  
Draco felt himself break into a grin as the cat immediately gave chase, nipping playfully at Longbottom's heels. Potter, always the hero, and Weasley bolted after Longbottom with their wands drawn. Hagrid was also in hot pursuit. Draco's grin grew at the uproar. All of the Gryffindors were watching in horror while the Slytherins were nearly overcome with laughter.   
  
Longbottom disappeared over the hill and the class began to follow. Not wanting to miss out on the action, Draco pushed himself away from the fence. He was walking towards Crabbe and Goyle when he stopped; a strange sensation had just come over him. Not quite knowing what it was Draco paused to see if it would happen again. Sure enough, he felt the odd feeling again, it was as if someone was calling out to him. He looked over his shoulder but most of the students had left the clearing now and none of the ones that remained paid him any attention. He felt it again, but it was stronger this time, more urgent. He turned and walked back towards Hagrid's hut. The feeling was familiar but disturbing. He continued past the hut and looked around. Father back, set into the woods was a small shed. He moved towards it slowly, and then stopped, something was watching him. But Draco couldn't see anything except trees. He had just decided that he didn't really need to know what the strange feeling was and that going back to the castle to enjoy a nice lunch would be the proper thing to do when a voice drifted over to him.  
  
"Hold still Fang! I can't help you if you won't hold still."   
  
Draco sighed, "How can she be everywhere?"   
  
Coming around the corner of the small shed he found Granger desperately trying to maintain a hold on the large dog's collar. The dog was straining against her and the only reason why it hadn't already bolted back towards the hut was the fact that Granger had some how managed to tie a rope to its collar and had wrapped the other end several times around a small sapling. As it was, the young tree was almost bent down to the ground with the struggles of the dog.  
  
"What are you doing Granger?" He asked coldly.   
  
She looked up, startled, a small jar in her hands. Draco recognized it as a healing balm; it was the same stuff that Madame Pomfrey always applied to his various Quidditch wounds. Granger was obviously trying to apply some to the deep gash across the dog's nose.   
  
"What does it look like I'm doing Malfoy," she snapped, affronted.  
  
As she said this to him, Draco noticed that she casually edged behind the massive bulk of the dog. She had been doing that a lot lately, always making sure that there was something tangible between the two of them. Draco figured that it was for the best, he always got a strange feeling when she was too close, it made him nervous.   
  
Draco heard a branch break off to one side of the small area that surrounded the shed. He strained his ears, trying to catch another whisper of sound, but it was quiet; too quiet.  
  
"Granger, I think we had better leave," he told her softly as he pulled his wand out.  
  
"Why? And anyway, I'm not going anywhere with you."   
  
Draco's eyes narrowed and he forgot about his rising sense of foreboding as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her most disapproving expression. But the sound of another branch breaking, this time much closer, reminded him of the approaching danger. Striding forward, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the dog.  
  
"There's something out there Granger, we need to go." He told her fiercely when she tried to pull out of his grasp.  
  
Granger looked at him, disbelief apparent, and then she glanced down at the dog. The boarhound had never ceased its struggle for freedom. It looked up at her with large imploring eyes and then pressed it's ears flat to his head and growled towards the trees.   
  
Granger's eyes widened and then cast about the dark trees, looking for any sign of movement. Draco suddenly felt soft warmth overcome him. Feeling more relaxed then he had in ages, he let go of her wrist. She turned and looked at him questioningly. Her large brown eyes burning into his soul.   
  
"Yes," he thought distantly, "it would be nice to just look into her eyes forever."  
  
A deep drowsiness began to overcome him and a great desire to sit down and sleep rushed over him.  
  
"Malfoy?" Granger's sharp voice brought him out of his reverie.  
  
Draco looked around, he felt like a deep fog was passing through his head. He suddenly realized what was hunting them.  
  
"It's the manticore, Granger." He whispered.  
  
"What?! That's impossible!" She told him.  
  
But Draco wasn't about to argue; he had experienced those strange emotions before, right as he had let the blasted thing out its cage. He grabbed her arm and pulled her after him, walking quickly back up the path, fighting the urge to run. He didn't want to act like prey anymore than he had to.  
  
"But Fang," she said.  
  
"Leave the bloody dog!" Draco snapped, picking up his pace.  
  
"I can't!" She wailed and managed to twist out of his grasp.  
  
Draco watched her dash back down the path. He didn't know why he hadn't just left her already. If she was so determined to let herself die, why should he care? But he did, and with a groan of frustration he ran after her.   
  
Granger stumbled to her knees and tried to undo the knots that kept the dog stationary. Her hands were shaking with rising fear and her fingers kept slipping over the ropes. The dog stood completely still, its hackles raised, growling softly.   
  
"Let me," Draco snapped and pushed Granger aside. He easily slipped the rope off the tree and jerked it hard to get the dog's attention. The dog looked up at him and then started towards a large clump of bushes.  
  
"Not now Fang!" Hermione hissed at the dog and pulled him by his collar.  
  
Draco grabbed Granger's arm and pulled her to her feet. The bushes to his immediate right rustled and he could hear a low growling. With the dog bounding ahead of them, they raced back up the path, no longer caring if whatever it was would give chase.  
  
Looking back over his shoulder, he could just barely see the creature lunging after them. Half hidden in the deep foliage, only flashes of golden brown fur and one glimpse of the scorpion tail, told Draco that he had been right about what it was. He was trying to figure out how long they could run before it caught them, when Granger suddenly pulled him hard to the left. Stumbling he caught himself before he could trip over his own feet and let her pull him through the thick trees. She stopped so suddenly that Draco almost ran into her. Before him stood Hagrid's hut.  
  
Even though he could still hear the manticore quickly approaching, he still had his Malfoy pride to think of.  
  
"There is no way that I'm going in there!" He told her firmly.  
  
Granger glared at him over her shoulder and then jerked him hard into the room. He fell down onto the floor and turned quickly, he was only able to catch of a glimpse of the manticore in a great leap before Granger slammed the door shut. There was a moment's pause and then a great force struck the door from the other side. The whole hut lurched. Draco glanced nervously around himself, wondering how sturdy the hut was. Another great bang shook the hut, but it remained intact.   
  
They sat silently at the wooden table, watching the door of Hagrid's hut. Fang was hunched over in a corner, his ears pressed back against his head, growling softly at the wall.   
  
"How long do you think we'll be in here?" Draco asked finally.  
  
"How should I know Malfoy?" Granger snapped ill temperedly.  
  
"Well you seem to know everything else mud...Granger." Draco muttered.  
  
Granger didn't seem to have noticed his slip. She stood up and moved quietly to one of the windows and glanced around.   
  
"I don't see anything, maybe it's gone away?" She looked over her shoulder at him hopefully  
  
"Damn it Granger, get away from the window, you're only tempting it."   
  
She pointedly turned her back on him. Draco stood up and started to walk to her when the beast made another attempt at the hut. Granger gave a quick scream as the manticore attacked the window. She swiftly returned to her seat and tried to regain her breath.  
  
"Told you so," he said.   
  
"Hagrid must have some enchantments up on the walls to keep that thing out." She said, ignoring that.  
  
Granger stood up and moved over to a wood cupboard and took out a massive teakettle and two teacups. Draco watched as she busied herself by the fire. She absentmindedly tucked a curl of dark hair behind her delicate ear and hung the kettle above the flames. Draco felt an odd twisting sensation deep inside him, for a moment he thought that she was almost too pretty to look at. She glanced back at him, her amber eyes sparkled with the firelight, they were still filled with fright but a glint of anticipation was beginning to form there. Draco felt his mouth go suddenly dry. Looking away he glanced around the small hut.  
  
"Why would anyone be willing live here?"   
  
"I think it's cozy," Granger told him mulishly.  
  
"Oh wait, I'd forgotten, you like to spend your summers at Weasley's too. This would seem to fit your tastes quiet nicely."   
  
Granger flushed and then leaned towards him and said in a low, dangerous voice, "I pity you, you've never been in a nice house. You've always been in that cold Malfoy Manor that you love so much. One day you'll realize that money and power don't add up to much when everything around you is cold."   
  
She poured out the steaming tea into two cups before sitting down. She raised the cup to her lips her fingers clenched it tightly. Draco just stared at her in shock. She was right of course, and that was the problem. How could she be so right about everything, how could she just know by looking at him. The only thing that he ever truly cared about was the manor. The great old house that would one day be his, the home that he had been raised in. She was right though; it had been cold there.  
  
"I...I'm sorry, Malfoy, I shouldn't have said that."   
  
Surprised, Draco looked up at her. She was rubbing the tips of her fingers against the edge of the table nervously. "I shouldn't say things like that." Draco smirked at her; she rolled her eyes and continued, "Yes, even to you."  
  
Draco leaned back in the wooden chair, which he had to admit was rather comfortable, and let his smirk deepen.  
  
"So Granger, looking forward to your date with Potter?"  
  
Granger choked on her tea and looked up at him in astonishment.  
  
"What on earth are you talking about Malfoy?" She asked.  
  
"The Yule Ball, Granger, you really should pay more attention." He told her sardonically.  
  
"I'm not going with Harry."  
  
"What? Don't tell me that you actually told Weasley yes? The stupid git has nothing to offer, I mean, did you see the dress robes that he wore last year?" Draco spluttered; the idea of Granger going with Potter seemed more acceptable than her going with Weasley. At least Potter was famous.  
  
"For your information, I'm not going with Ron or Harry."   
  
"You don't have a date yet?" Draco couldn't hide the shock in his voice. Even if she was a Gryffindor, she was still rather pretty, and fairly engaging to speak to as well.  
  
"Actually, I'm going with Dean." Granger looked away from him.  
  
Draco thought quickly, trying to remember who he was. A memory of a tall boy in Potions came to him.  
  
"Thomas? You're going with Thomas? He must be at least two feet taller than you. I'll bet he can't dance either, he looks awfully gangly."   
  
"I like Dean, and he's not gangly." Granger retorted. "Who are you going to the ball with anyway?"  
  
"I'm..." For a brief moment Draco saw himself walking through the doors into the Great Hall with a beaming brown-haired girl holding his arm, her light airy robes flowing along her curves as she turned to smile up at him, her warm amber eyes melting something inside of him. "Pansy, I'm going with Pansy."   
  
"Oh," Granger said. Draco thought that she looked almost crestfallen but the look was gone so quickly that he couldn't tell.  
  
They lapsed into silence after that. Draco was pondering what it meant to think of her as his date to the ball. He hadn't lied about going with Pansy; the idiot girl had pounced on him the moment that he had left the hall after Dumbledore had made the announcement. Draco had agreed to take her, she was the most attractive girl in the Slytherin house and she did enjoy stroking his ego, which he found very pleasing. But when Granger asked whom he was taking, he had thought of her. And it had seemed so normal, so natural, so right.   
  
Granger stood up and started to rustle through the cupboard once again, she emerged with a small plate of rock cakes. Making a face, she closed the cupboard door and a small slip of parchment fluttered down to the floor. Frowning, she set the plate on the table and picked up the piece of paper. Draco glanced at it over her shoulder as she sat down. The untidy scribble hardly made sense at first. The parchment scrap was covered in little doodles and marks. It took a moment for Draco to realize that it was a shopping list.  
  
"Just some code that oaf must have made up." He said.  
  
Granger glanced at him quizzically.  
  
"You know, short-hand? Lucius uses his own variation. Quicker way to write things down, of course, he was more interested in the fact that it took much longer to figure something out if you didn't know his personal short-hand." Draco leaned back in his chair with a satisfactory smile, he had figured out Lucius' special code before he could write in cursive.   
  
Granger looked up at him when he spoke and then back down to the piece of paper. Her eyes widened and she seemed to speaking to herself, under her breath. She stood up so suddenly that her chair fell over and she almost upset the teakettle.  
  
"That's it!" She cried, brandishing the piece of paper in front of him. "That's why it didn't make any sense!"  
  
"What?" Draco asked startled.  
  
"This is it! They're in code!" Granger was virtually jumping up and down with glee.  
  
"What? What's in code? Granger, what are you talking about?" Draco stood up because having Granger bouncing around above him was making him uncomfortable.  
  
"His books, O'Leary's books. The one's that are all numbers? They must be in code!" Granger really was jumping up and down now with visible delight.  
  
And then Draco understood what she was talking about it. And it made sense; of course, the books must be in some sort of code. Why he hadn't though of it before rather annoyed him. Meanwhile Granger had rushed to the door, with her hand on the handle she turned back to him.  
  
"Come on! We need to go to the library!"   
  
Draco realized what she was about to do and crossed the room in a flash. He caught her wrist and pulled her away from the door before she could open it. Granger stumbled back and fell into Draco. As if of their own volition his arms circled around her. She stiffened against him and then relaxed. He helped her straighten up but didn't let go. He felt his heart start to beat wildly and he pulled her closer to him. She tilted her head up and he pulled her even closer and leaned down.  
  
"Hermione! Just what do yeh think y're doin?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the hut.  
  
There was the a moments pause while Draco just stared up into the swarthy face of Hagrid realizing for probably the very first time just what being a half-giant meant. An image of a large black boot smashing down on his head flashed through his mind. Granger suddenly jumping away from him brought him out of his daydream. She was so intent on extricating herself from him that Draco almost lost his balance.   
  
"Hagrid, thank goodness you came back!" Granger's nervous voice was several octaves higher than normal.  
  
Hagrid moved quicker than his bulk should have allowed and yanked Draco off the ground, his large fist grasping the collar of Draco's robe.   
  
"What do yeh think y're doin w' er?" His was voice low and menacing.  
  
"Hagrid, please, it's not what it looks like!" Granger's now shrill voice pleaded. "The manticore was here, it was chasing us, we didn't have time to make it back to the castle."  
  
Draco fell to the plank floor as Hagrid released him. Gasping for breath he looked up as Hagrid turned to Granger.  
  
"Yeh sure 'ermione?"   
  
Granger nodded and Hagrid brushed past both of them and leaned next to the fire. With a few muffled words there was a sudden burst of light and the fire seemed to become transparent, the headmaster's office could be seen through the swirling smoke.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore? Can yeh hear me?" Hagrid called into the flames.  
  
"Yes Hagrid?" Dumbledore's face appeared in the flames.  
  
"Yeh were right, it came back, chased 'ermione an' Malfoy into mi hut."  
  
"I'll be right there Hagrid, wait for me please." The Headmaster's face disappeared.  
  
Draco pulled himself up and glanced quizzically at Granger. She shrugged mildly and they just stood watching Hagrid. The half-giant was digging through a large trunk that rested at the foot of his bed. From it he pulled out a large crossbow and then a bundle of cloth that he unrolled across the old quilt to reveal several bolts tipped in a substance that made Draco's eyes widen in surprise.  
  
"Those aren't, they can't be, dragon teeth?" Granger whispered.  
  
Draco smiled to himself; she was remarkably smart, once you got past the bossy know-it-all of course.  
  
"Aye," Hagrid replied as he began to examine each bolt, there appeared to be seven of them.  
  
Draco was amazed that Hagrid had such things, it was very hard to come by dragon teeth, they were exceptionally valuable. The teeth of an adult dragon are nearly as hard as diamonds; they're meant to cut through anything. Lucius had been very proud of small knife that was tipped with a tiny tooth and here, this oaf, had a whole quiver's worth.  
  
"Are you going to kill it then Hagrid?" Granger asked weakly.   
  
"Aye, if we can catch it." He told her. "I know that yeh are for most magical creatures rights, but this one mus' be put down, as much as it pains me. It won't leave yeh alone if we don'."  
  
"What do you mean it won't leave us alone if you don't?" Draco asked.  
  
"You see Mr. Malfoy," Draco spun to see the headmaster standing in the door with Professor Snape a step behind him. "The manticore is known for it's viciousness, but most people are unaware that the manticore rarely lets its prey get away."  
  
"You mean," started Granger but the Headmaster continued.  
  
"Yes Ms. Granger, I had a small hunch that your manticore might remain within the vicinity of the grounds in hopes of continuing his meal. And now, Severus, would you please escort them back to the castle? Hagrid, you and I shall go take care of this."  
  
Draco had little time to argue as he soon found himself walking back up to the castle with Professor Snape and Granger. Professor Snape said nothing to either of them and was acting quite putout about his job as guardian. Once they were through the great doors Professor Snape stopped.  
  
"Now, Ms. Granger, I suggest that you head to your common room, the same to you Draco."   
  
"But Professor, Malfoy and I were going to go to the library." Granger said quickly, Draco could still see the excitement in her eyes.  
  
"Don't you think that you and Mr. Malfoy have spent quite enough time together today? My what will people say?" Professor Snape said harshly.  
  
"It wasn't her fault Professor," Draco defended before he could stop the words.   
  
Professor Snape spun around to look at him and Granger too seemed shocked. Draco fought hard to keep his face from going red and without another word, turned and headed towards the dungeon.   
  
  
__________________________________________________________  
**The Bezerkiras is a creature taken from the AD&D monster manual, in case any of you were wondering. Magical Beasts just didn't have what I was looking for. There will be another chapter, please Read & Review!!!  



	13. Shopping With Ginny

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.... Nothing is mine... :(  
  
***Okay.... This chapter would have been out last Saturday, but ffnet was broken and I have been (and still am) on vacation. So.... I'm sorry that it's a little late, but I swear that it wasn't my fault! Anyhoo, I know that I'm taking forever to get these two together, but it will happen eventually, I swear!   
  
  
  
Hermione glanced eagerly at the clock on her bedside table. It was only five minutes later than when she had checked it last, making it five thirty-five in the morning. Sighing with defeat Hermione rolled over onto her back and stared up at the crimson canopy that covered her bed, the library wouldn't even open for another hour at least. She would have snuck out to the library last night, Snape be damned, except that Harry and Ron had decided that she was spending to much time there and had refused to let her borrow the invisibility cloak, opting instead to force her to play chess for several hours.   
  
Hermione closed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep. Her sleep had been troubled before; visions of dark gray eyes and ancient Arithmancy texts had danced around in her mind while she sleeping. Now, to think about Arithmancy was fairly common for Hermione, but to dream of Draco Malfoy wasn't in her normal routine.   
  
Finally deciding that going back to sleep just wasn't really feasible at the moment, Hermione climbed out of bed and put on her slippers, they were blue and reminded her of something an old maid would wear, but Hermione had always thought them wonderfully comfortable, especially so early in the morning in the winter when the flag stoned hallway that led to the girl's bathroom felt like raw ice on naked feet.   
  
The bathroom, not surprisingly, was deserted that morning and Hermione was able to secure the little bathtub in the corner. Pushing aside the crimson and gold drapes that provided privacy she set her towel down next to the large claw-footed basin. It was rather cold in here; the house-elves had only just recently lit the fires in the room. Hermione selected a purple bottled bubble bath from the small shelf that was set against the wall and poured a few drops into the tub. Purple foamy bubbles immediately sprang to life and the scent of lavender suffused the air.   
  
She sank deeply into the water and closed her eyes, her mind beginning to drift.   
  
Hermione found herself in a room that she hadn't been in before; a large bed was in one corner, covered in dark blue silk. A brilliant fire was burning in the grate and a great door was against the other wall. The door opened suddenly and Hermione saw Malfoy walk in, he smiled as he approached her.  
  
"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"   
  
Malfoy didn't answer though; he swept her up off her feet and kissed her deeply. Hermione could feel herself start to melt into the kiss and then fought against it, finding her strength she pushed him away. Malfoy easily let go of her and smiled lovingly down at her.  
  
"Playing hard to get Hermione? And what have I done to deserve being called Malfoy?" A genuine smile played across his face and he gently stroked her cheek.   
  
"What's going on Malfoy?" Hermione asked nervously.  
  
But he didn't answer; his hand had dropped from her cheek and found the clasp of her robes. Hermione gasped softly as the cloth slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her ankles. Malfoy put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. His hands slowly slid down her body and he pressed his lips to hers.  
  
Hermione woke up with a gasp sending a cascade of bubbly water of the lip of the bathtub. She scrambled out of the bath. Her breathing hard, she glared at the porcelain tub, as if it was somehow responsible.   
  
"Hermione? Is that you?"   
  
Hermione stifled a gasp and quickly pulled her bathrobe back on, pushing the draperies apart, she gazed down the large bathroom. At the other end a sleepy Ginny Weasley stood unbraiding a thick plait of red hair.  
  
"G...Ginny, what're you doing up so early?" Hermione asked her, blushing hard.  
  
Ginny covered her mouth with her hand and gave a great yawn.   
  
"Ron and Harry want to get an early start to Hogsmeade this morning, so we're all leaving right after breakfast." She replied.   
  
Ginny pulled the last lock of red hair loose and gave Hermione her full attention. "Are you all right Hermione? You look flushed."  
  
"Oh I'm fine, was just in the bath for too long I think." Hermione said quickly and tried to smile at Ginny.  
  
The young Weasley crossed her arms and looked Hermione up and down.   
  
"What's going on with you and Malfoy?"   
  
Hermione turned quickly and began to gather her things, deliberately not looking at her friend.  
  
"Nothing is going on with Malfoy, we just have to work together on this project for Arithmancy, I've told you that Gin."   
  
Ginny narrowed her eyes, "Ron and Harry might believe that, but I'm a bit more observant than either of them."  
  
Something inside of Hermione cracked and she gave a soft wail and sat down hard on one of the small benches that lined the wall. She buried her face in her hands and took a deep, reassuring breath.  
  
"I don't know what's going on with Malfoy," she moaned.  
  
Ginny sat down next to Hermione and gently draped an arm over her shoulder.  
  
"So there is something going on," Ginny whispered finally.   
  
Hermione pulled out of Ginny's embrace and leaned her head back against the wall.  
  
"Yes," she said slowly, "there is something going on, but I don't know what."  
  
"Do you want to talk about?" Ginny asked softly, worry obvious on her face.  
  
Hermione shook her head, "no Ginny, thinking about him will only give me a head ache. You won't tell Harry or Ron, will you?"   
  
"Of course not, if they're not paying enough attention to figure things out for themselves, well then bludgers to them." Ginny said with a grin.   
  
"Thanks Gin, I had better go get dressed, see you at breakfast?"   
  
"Yeah, tell Harry and Ron not to leave without me in case I'm late, they are in quite a rush this morning."   
  
With these last words Ginny Weasley stepped into the shrouded bath area that Hermione had been sleeping so fitfully in only a few minutes before and pulled the drapes behind her. Hanging her towel over her arm, Hermione slipped quietly out of the bathroom and padded back to her room. The dream had faded somewhat in her mind and Hermione had decided that it had only been the after affects of too many peppermint pasties at dinner the night before. Her conversation with Ginny was still weighing on her mind though as she reached her room and began to search for a set of school robes to put on. She knew that Ginny wouldn't say anything to Harry or Ron, but if Ginny could notice, wouldn't they eventually? Hermione shuddered at the thought of their reactions if they thought that she might like Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Not that I do," she assured herself firmly as she pulled the black robes over her head.  
  
Hermione reminded herself once again that Draco Malfoy was nothing but an egotistical, spoiled-brat who had nothing better to do than torment her and her friends. But as she pulled her hair back from her forehead and fixed it with a small, unadorned clip, she couldn't ignore the loneliness that seemed to exude from him sometimes, or the warmth that she was almost certain that she had seen in his usually unreadable cold, gray eyes. Sighing deeply, Hermione picked up her book bag and started down the stairs.  
  
Ron and Harry were already there when she reached the common room. They smiled as she came to them.  
  
"Oi! What're you doing with those?" Ron asked as he pointed at her bag.  
  
"I'm going to the library after breakfast," Hermione told him.  
  
"Oh no you're not," Harry told her while Ron nodded vigorously. "You're going to Hogsmeade with us after breakfast."  
  
"Now really, I have things to do there, I think I might be on the verge of a breakthrough. I can't very well go traipsing off to Hogsmeade." Hermione replied.   
  
Hermione could see that this situation was only going to get worse as a look of resolve seemed to come over both Ron and Harry. She tried to dart past them but her friends were quicker. Ron grabbed her arm and then pulled her into a tight hug while Harry pulled her wand out of her pocket. She kicked out furiously at him but Harry just jumped backward with a big grin on his face. Ron let go of her and Hermione started to lunge at Harry. But before she could even move, Ron had grabbed her bag and pulled it off of her shoulder. Spinning angrily, Hermione glared at Ron and then back at Harry.  
  
"Very funny, now give me my wand, Harry."  
  
"Hermione, you're spending way too much time studying, it's not healthy." Harry told her gently.  
  
"Yeah, and it's really not healthy to be spending so much time with that git Malfoy." Ron spat in disgust.  
  
At the mention of Malfoy, Hermione felt herself flush and glared at her friends with a vehemence that was surprising.  
  
"Look Hermione," Harry said quietly, "we know that you live for school, and that you'd sleep in the library if Madame Pince would let you, but we worry when you try to spend every waking moment there."   
  
Hermione sighed and looked at the floor, she had been neglecting her friends, she knew that. Lately she had been spending most of her time in the library working with Malfoy, not that he had anything to do with it, of course.   
  
"I guess taking the day off to go to Hogsmeade won't hurt," She agreed finally, much to the relief of her friends.   
  
"Yes, it will do you good to spend some time away from Malfoy." Said a voice from behind them.  
  
Spinning around, Hermione found Ginny standing at the foot of the stairs that led to the girls' dorm. Ginny smiled at Hermione and she fought against the blush that wanted to creep across her face. Hermione made a mental note to slip Ginny a canary cream later on.   
  
"Well if that's settled, let's go eat, I'm starving!" Ron said with a relieved grinned.  
  
Much to Hermione's consternation he threw her book bag back onto one of the chairs near the fireplace. But before she could say anything Ginny had stepped forward and taken her arm. The redhead beamed at her and pulled Hermione through the portrait hole.  
  
  
  
Arm-in-arm with Ginny, Hermione walked through the deepening snow as they strolled through Hogsmeade. A snowstorm was blowing up from the south, but it wouldn't get heavy there until later that evening. At the moment, the snowflakes fell delicately from the afternoon sky making the already idyllic town picture perfect in all of its Christmas trimmings. Thick garlands connected the lampposts and wreaths of holly and ivy seemed to adorn every door and window.   
  
Hermione was glad that Ron Harry had forced her to come. They usually didn't have a Hogsmeade trip during the holiday break, but again, special circumstances were present this year. With so many students littering the school, the professors had decided that a visit to Hogsmeade would be a welcomed treat.  
  
Harry and Ron were walking a few steps ahead of the girls, when they reached the main square the foursome stopped and face each other.  
  
"Well, err....now that we're here, Harry and I wanted to do some shopping on our own. If that's all right with you two." Ron said nervously.  
  
Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and glared disapprovingly at her brother.   
  
"That's fine Ron, Ginny and I were going to look at new robes, right Gin? My parents sent me some money for Christmas to buy some." Hermione said, cutting off the remark that was obviously on the tip of Ginny's tongue.  
  
"Great!" Harry said, "Well then we'll meet with you in the Three Broomsticks in an hour?"   
  
Hermione nodded and the two boys turned and walked away, talking in low voices.   
  
"It would figure that they waited until the last minute to do their Christmas shopping." Ginny snapped. "I've been done for ages."  
  
"Come on Ginny, let's go to Gladrags, I've about outgrown my old school robes. Another half inch and I'll be in real trouble."   
  
Gladrags Wizard Wear was one of the larger stores in Hogsmeade, and like everything else, it was bedecked in its Christmas finery. Ever-burning candles were lined up one after another on the eaves of the building, each one enchanted to flash on and off. A trio of small green elves were even singing carols merrily by the doors. The whole front of the shop seemed to be nothing but windows and the two girls stood outside for a moment admiring the brilliantly colored robes that were on display.   
  
Hermione had never been one for clothes shopping, which happened to be one of the many things she liked about being a witch; simple robes were a mainstay. But the youngest Weasley obviously had a love for fashion and Hermione soon found herself loaded down with a pile of black robes of varying shade and material.   
  
"Ginny, I only need the standard school robe set." Hermione pleaded from behind the growing pile.  
  
"Nonsense, the standard set is boring. What do you think of this one?" Ginny asked.  
  
Hermione craned her neck in order to look around the stack of robes at the ridiculously shiny black robe that Ginny was holding out to her. It looked disturbingly like some type of animal skin, one that would crawl. Or, as Hermione made a face, slither.   
  
"Ginny, I absolutely refuse to try on something made of snake skins." Hermione said firmly.   
  
Ginny looked momentarily defeated and gazed past Hermione. A sudden smile spilt her face and Ginny pushed past Hermione with a squeal of excitement. Hermione rolled her eyes and wished quite suddenly that she were in the library. Hermione deposited the pile of robes into the arms of a young sales-witch that had been patiently waiting upon them. Hermione turned quickly to avoid the disgruntled glare that the young woman sent her way and scanned the store for Ginny.   
  
Ginny was in the dress robe section of the store. She had pulled out a robe of dark violet and was holding it up to herself and examined the effect in a near-by mirror. She glanced over at Hermione and motioned her over.   
  
"What do you think?" She asked turning to face Hermione.  
  
"It's pretty Gin, but I thought that you already got new dress robes this year." Hermione said admiring her friend. The purple really did look good on Ginny.   
  
"I did, birthday present from Percy, but it never hurts to look. Speaking of which, let's find some for you!" Ginny return the robe to its rack and started pawing through the neighboring robes.  
  
"I don't need new dress robes, I like the ones that I had last year." Hermione said plaintively. She had been very happy with how she had turned out for last year's ball.  
  
"Yes but you wore those last year," Ginny made sure to enunciate every word. "And anyway, if you've almost outgrown last years set of school robes, them you must surely have almost outgrown last years dress robe."   
  
"I..."  
  
Hermione paused, she hadn't really thought of that. Ginny made sense though, the dress robe that she had worn last year had been fitted to her, so it probably wouldn't fit. Hermione looked at the surrounding robes and sighed, this was going to take more time that she had wanted to spend in here. Ginny certainly didn't seem to mind though; she had already pulled out a robe or two to hold against Hermione.   
  
Hermione turned from Ginny and began to run her hand over the fabrics, some were as smooth as glass, some were rough and starchy, one was made entirely of dragon skin. Hermione was trying to ignore the mounting stack of dress robes that Ginny was forming on the table near the mirror and concentrated instead on the rack in front of her. Her eyes were immediately drawn to one robe in particular. She pulled it out to examine. The fabric was a warm crimson, it reminded her of holly berries. The cloth itself was soft and smooth to the touch like silk but thicker. It had a matte finish and the light didn't reflect from it the way some robes did. It was subtle in it beauty. The only detail that it contained were sleeves that belled out slightly and ended in a thin band of shiny red trim. A smile spread across her face and Hermione turned to show Ginny.   
  
"Look at this one!" They said in unison.   
  
Ginny was already holding out a robe to Hermione to see. With an exchange of oohs and ahhs, the two girls admired the robes. The one that Ginny had found was a brilliant blue, light and airy, with material that seemed to shimmer in the light. A delicate ruffle ran along the hem and the sleeves narrowed down to a fitted point on either hand. Hermione stared at each robe and then grinned at Ginny, how could she choose? But Ginny had gone still, she was staring at a spot over Hermione's shoulder.  
  
"What?" Hermione began to ask as she turned.  
  
Draco Malfoy was standing outside the shop watching them, watching her, through the great windows. The trio of elves was singing around him but he seemed oblivious. Hermione wondered how long he had been standing there watching them shopping and a deep blush spread across her face. He seemed to snap out of his reverie and realized just what he was doing and turned away quickly, striding into the mounting snowdrifts.  
  
"Well," Ginny said in a stunned voice, "that was certainly strange."  
  
  
  
Hermione opened the door to their room and stopped, somehow, Malfoy had managed to beat her back to school. He sat at the large table with his feet resting on a pile their used parchment, a book in his lap. He looked up at her as she stood there and the details of Hermione's dream came pouring across her thoughts. She felt herself blush deeply and took a steadying breath before pulling the door close behind her.  
  
"Something wrong Granger? You look a little flushed." Malfoy told her, a hint of amusement in his silvery eyes.  
  
Hermione refused to answer him, only walking stiffly past to the crate near the window. Extracting one of the illegible tomes, she returned to the table and sat down silently. She continued to ignore him for several minutes, but the knowledge that he was still watching her was beginning to get under skin.   
  
"What?" She finally snapped in exasperation, "what can you possibly find so interesting?"   
  
Malfoy grinned, obviously pleased with his ability to bother her. "Nothing really, just find it funny how much you resemble Weasley at the moment. Didn't know you could get that red."  
  
"It was cold out! And I prefer to think of it as rosy." She told him coldly.  
  
"Whatever you say Granger." Malfoy smiled almost pleasantly at her and began to read again.   
  
Hermione wasted one more moment to glare at his tousled head before immersing herself fully in her own book. The minutes flew by and the sky outside darkened, snow falling in thick flurries now. At some point Malfoy left the room without saying a word. Hermione watched him go out of the corner of her eye and shrugged to herself when he was gone.   
  
Hermione moaned softly and rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. She had been working for at least an hour and the code still wasn't making any sense. Shivering slightly, Hermione pulled her robe tighter, thinking of the warm cloak folded neatly on her bed right next to her new robes.   
  
The door opened and Malfoy strode back in. He was caring two cups, one of which he set in front of her before sinking back into his own seat across the table. Hermione looked down at the dark, steaming liquid and then up at Malfoy who had already begun to drink from his cup.   
  
"What's this?"   
  
"What does it look like Granger? It's coffee." He told her sardonically.  
  
"Yes, I can see that it's coffee, why do I have some?" Hermione asked suspiciously.  
  
"I was getting cold, figured I would pay my old house elf a visit and get something warm to drink. I thought it would only be gentlemanly of me to get some for you as well."   
  
Hermione looked from Malfoy back to her coffee and swirled it dubiously.   
  
"You can drink it black, can't you? I know that some witches have too weak a demeanor to drink something so strong." He smirked at her.  
  
"Of course I can drink it black," she snapped at him, and as if to prove that she did not possess a fragile constitution, she took a great gulp of the hot liquid.  
  
The warmth spread through her quickly and Hermione returned to her tome, missing the slight smile that appeared fleetingly on Malfoy's face.  
  
Their silent study continued after that until Hermione, glancing at her watch noticed that it was almost time for the library to close, and gave into her desperate need to figure out the books.   
  
"Have you figured it out yet Malfoy?"   
  
"What? You haven't gotten it yet Granger?" Malfoy answered her question with a question.  
  
Hermione glared at him but swallowed her pride anyway, "No, I haven't yet. What does your say?" She said this in a small breathless voice, the possibilities of what the books might say stretched out before her like a great adventure.  
  
"I haven't the foggiest idea," for added emphasis, Malfoy snapped his book stuff and tossed it lightly onto the table in front of him.  
  
"What? But I thought...didn't you say... You are such a prat sometimes Malfoy." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  
  
"I know, but I'm still devilishly handsome and that makes up for my shortcomings, few as they are." Malfoy smiled genially at her.  
  
Hermione only laughed scathingly and closed her own book. Deciding that she was too tired to continue she set the book on the table next to her pile of notes. Quickly scanning these one more time in case there was something she had missed. Hermione didn't understand why they hadn't broken the code yet; it was obviously there now that they were looking for it. The number pattern was similar through out all the books. The unique grouping of fours and the virtually always-singular eleven showed that. She stifled a yawn and decided that it wasn't going to do her any good to work while this tired. Pulling her bag onto her shoulder she walked to the door.  
  
"See you tomorrow Granger?" Malfoy called out after her.  
  
"Of course," she replied sleepily before pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
  
___________________________________________________________  
**There will be another chapter, in the mean time, please Read & Review!!!  
  



	14. The Yule Ball

***Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling... *sigh*   
  
Okay, here's chapter 14. Now I'll post it and ffnet will probably break again, cause that's how it always works, but what is one to do?   
________________________________________________________________   
  
  
  
Snow was falling on Christmas day in soft flurrying waves, last night's heavy snowstorm had subsided and when the sun finally made it's presence known in an hour, it would be a beautiful day at Hogwarts. Silence pervaded Hogwarts the only sounds came from the kitchen where house elves were already bustling about frantically. All of the students still slept soundly, except for Draco Malfoy.   
  
Draco lay in his four-poster and tried, unsuccessfully, to cover his ears with his pillow. The loud snores of Goyle, which he had become so use to that they generally helped put him to sleep, had awoken him much earlier than he would have liked. Draco was never one to pass up a few extra hours of sleep in the morning. But it was becoming steadily apparent that this was not going to be one of those mornings. With a disgruntled groan, Draco tossed his pillow to one side and sat up. Pushing the dark green draperies out of the way, he felt in his pocket for his wand. Aiming was a bit tricky since it was still dark in the room, the house elves had yet to light the fires, Draco finally was able to focus his eyes on Goyle's massive hulk. Unfortunately for Goyle, he never took the time to close his curtains.   
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Draco hissed.   
  
He waited a moment for a reaction from Goyle but there was only silence. With a self-satisfied sigh, Draco settled back amongst his silver and green bedding. Now he could get back to sleep and hopefully return to the dream that he had been so rudely removed from. He could feel himself losing touch with reality as sleep began to overcome him and the library started to flicker indistinctly in his mind as his consciousness gave away. He knew where he was going, and who would be waiting, he only hoped that she would still be in the same state of attire, or lack there of, that she had been in before he had woken up.   
  
There was a sudden strangling sound followed immediately by a long, low wheezing. Draco growled and sat up again.   
  
"Only Goyle could snore through a full body-bind." He grumbled.   
  
Getting to his feet, Draco started to sweep menacingly towards the unwittingly form that was Goyle. The stone dungeon that served as the fifth-year Slytherin boy's dorm was suddenly awash with flickering fire light. Momentarily distracted Draco glanced at the fire that was now boisterously burning in the grate that had been cold only moments before. The house elves were obviously beginning to make their rounds. Draco stopped and sighed with defeat. There was no point now.   
  
After muttering the counter spell under his breath, Draco turned away from Goyle and looked, for the first time, to the foot of his bed where a large pile of brightly wrapped presents were waiting for him. He felt momentarily surprised by this, Lucius probably wanted to kill him, not send him gifts. But then, Draco supposed, Lucius had probably not informed anyone that his son had left the flock. It might look suspicious to others if Christmas came and went with Lucius ignoring his son.   
  
Warily, he poked one package with the tip of his wand. It seemed fine to touch, so Draco scooped up all the packages from home and dumped them into the fireplace. Taking Lucius' last letter to heart, Draco thought it best to not open anything that his father might have had a hand in. Draco had never figured out what the foul smelling powder had been, but his finger tips were red and blistered for several days and Draco imagined that it was supposed to do much more than that to the recipient, but Draco was after all Lucius' son.   
  
He stood before the fire and watched the presents go up in flames. Turning back to his bed, he surveyed the much smaller remaining pile of presents. Going along with Lucius would have been so much easier than all of this. Dumbledore had assured him that he would be absolutely safe here at Hogwarts. But Draco knew Lucius better than anyone else, and he doubted greatly that this was the end of it. And all of his reasons for not following his father and thus Voldemort, crumbled before the overwhelming odds of his imminent death. All of his reasons except for one, fell before the Dark Lord, all except for the brown eyes of one girl that would look upon him with nothing but loathing if he ever allowed the dark mark to be branded onto his arm.   
  
  
Everyone in the school seemed overly excited about tonight's upcoming events, at least, Draco thought they were. Being a Malfoy, social events were quite common at the Manor, and a small, pitiful ball hardly seemed impressive. But this was the first time that the younger years had been allowed to attend and Draco was able to forgive the uproar in the Great Hall while he ate breakfast, he was able to ignore tumult in the library for even Madame Pince had given up trying to restrain the eagerness of the other students. But he was unable to overlook the mass of Gryffindors that were congregating outside undertaking in some sort of very noisy play in the deep snow.   
  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he stood in the entrance way, could he never have a moments peace without being disturbed by a bunch of rowdy Gryffindors who didn't even have enough sense to stay indoors on such a cold day? And of course, there was the star of Gryffindor tower, Potter himself and Weasley as well. But Granger wasn't with them. Draco searched amongst the hills of snow and finally spotted her. She was walking with that boy, that boy from Potions, her partner for the ball. Draco made a face; he wasn't impressed with Dean Thomas. Granger could do much better than that.   
  
With an unexpected shout from the two matching Weasleys who had been hiding behind a tree, flying snow began to fill the air.   
  
Draco came down the steps and stood at the edge of the great sea of snow that surrounded the school and continued to watch, unnoticed, the chaos that ensued after the twins started the snow war. Snow flew every which way though none came near Draco as if the flakes themselves were afraid of the absolute look of disapproval and disgust on his face.   
  
Granger and that boy had gone unscathed so far, but when Weasley grabbed a great handful of snow and started to chase the girl, she turned and ran right for the school doors. Running as fast as she could while keeping an eye on the redhead who was catching up, she didn't notice Draco blocking her way until she ran into him. With a startled cry she fell back hard and sprawled onto the ground in front of him. His first impulse had been to catch her as he had so many other times, but he could see Thomas hurrying to reach her as well as Weasley and if she wanted to spend her time with them, then one of them could catch her. He glared down at her, the bushy brown hair and pretty face only making him angrier, he felt the old insult issue from him before he could stop himself.   
  
"Watch it mudblood," he hissed, temporarily forgetting that he was a lone Slytherin in the midst of a troupe of Gryffindors.   
  
Granger's eyes had still been closed but they flew open at his words and she started up him, shocked. A hush spread quickly through the open area as all of the Gryffindors stopped what they were doing and gazed at Draco with undisguised hate.   
  
Weasley reached them first, followed almost immediately by Thomas. Weasley went right past Granger though and swung his fist at Draco who dodged artfully away and then looked again to Granger. Thomas meanwhile was helping Granger get to her feet. Draco's momentary lapse cost him though, as the other two Weasleys joined the fray. Draco soon found himself pressed hard into the stonewall and dangling a foot off the ground as the twins held him up for their brother to take proper aim.   
  
"Ron! Stop it!" Granger's voice cut through the angry buzzing that was the rest of her friends. "Fred, George, put him down."   
  
"What?" The twins cried in unison.   
  
"Hermione," Ron snapped at her, "you heard what he said, didn't you?"   
  
Granger had come up to stand next to him and she put her hand on the arm that he had been about to strike Draco with and said in a quiet voice.   
  
"I heard him Ron, I just don't care. I don't care about anything he has to say."   
  
Draco looked at her in surprise, she met his eyes only briefly, but that was all he needed. She wasn't angry, only tired, and hurt. Draco immediately felt guilty about it all. Now that he could look into her eyes he wasn't quite sure why he had been so angry.   
  
Begrudgingly, the twins put him down and the three Weasleys turned their backs on him and walked over to where their fellows were waiting.   
  
"Granger I..." Draco began, wanting to explain somehow but she cut him off.   
  
"Go away Malfoy," she said in a sad, defeated voice, "you're not welcome here."   
  
  
  
"Draco! There you are, I was beginning to think that you had forgotten me."   
  
Draco looked across the Slytherin common room to find Pansy rushing to him, blue robes shimmering distractingly around her.   
  
"Of course not Pansy, the ball starts at 7, I told you that I would meet you at a quarter till." Draco spoke in a slow even voice as if he was talking to a very young child.   
  
Pansy screwed up her face unpleasantly and then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say and softened into a smile.   
  
"Well you're here now. Don't I look ravishing?" Pansy preened before him, her tight blue robes fitting snugly around the curves that Draco had to admit did have their appeal.   
  
"Mhmm," he responded. "Shall we?"   
  
Pansy's smile deepened and she accepted the arm that Draco offered to her. They strolled up the dungeon stairs and found themselves on the landing across from the great hall. The doors were thrown wide and people were already beginning to pass through them into the bright dining hall. Pansy smiled to almost everyone that they passed. It wasn't an act of friendship, only one of pride and conceit. While it never used to bother him, Draco found her bravado rather distasteful. Her blue robes were almost painfully revealing and while once Draco would have found his vantage point to be a favorable one, tonight he felt that her attire was almost lewd and he couldn't help but think of a certain brown-haired Gryffindor who would never make such an obvious show of her physical attributes, pleasing as they were.   
  
They sat down at a small table along with Crabbe, Goyle, and their dates. They had both managed to convince some second year Slytherins to accompany them. Draco thought that this might not have been entirely voluntary on the girls' part. Both of them sat huddled together looking frightened of the two hulking brutes to either side of them.   
  
Dinner was over quickly and the students were finally able to begin socializing. Pansy attached herself to Draco again and pulled him out on the dance floor. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Her body was rubbing rhythmically against his along to the music. Once upon a time Draco would have found this to be quite exhilarating. But now Pansy seemed to be only a pale shade of what he really wanted. Draco stopped dancing.   
  
"Do I want Granger?" He wondered in shock. "Is that what this is all about? Granger?"   
  
Pansy crossed her arms angrily, "What's wrong with you Draco?"   
  
Draco stared down at Pansy without seeing her. His mind was racing over this sudden obstacle in his thoughts. He knew that he had kissed her, more than once, but he had never once considered that he might actually want her. She had some sort of bewildering pull, of that, he was well aware. But for him to actually want her...he had never considered it as a possibility.   
  
"Draco..." Pansy whined. Suddenly getting an idea, she leaned close to him and purred in his ear, "whatever has you distracted, I can show you something much more interesting later." Her hands tightened on him in a way that left Draco with no doubt as to what she meant.   
  
"No thanks Pansy," he told her, a hint of disgust in his voice.   
  
She glared at him vehemently and then spun on her heel, storming away angrily. Draco didn't watch her retreat though; he was already scanning the noisy crowd of students for Granger.   
  
He moved off to one side so that he could better scan the crowd. It was hard to find anyone in such a teeming area. Since all the years were allowed to attend, it was very loud here. It was hard to make out the band, a troupe of women who looked almost like banshees and wailed in high-pitched voices that was oddly pleasing. It took him a few minutes to find her. She was dancing with that boy. Draco glared at them, feeling much like he had earlier that day. Thomas moved clumsily along with Granger who seemed so graceful in comparison that the appropriate metaphor would be something along the lines of a butterfly versus an elephant.   
  
She was wearing the red robes that he had seen her admiring in Gladrags. They moved easily with her and Draco noticed that the red brought out an astonishing array of color in her brown hair. She seemed happy enough, dancing with Thomas, but Draco knew that she could do better than that.   
  
The couple stopped at the next song and sat at a table well into the Gryffindor corner of the Great Hall. Draco watched with cold eyes as she sat with her friends. Potter and Weasley had come without dates but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Potter, Weasley, Thomas, and his Irish friend seemed to be talking animatedly amongst themselves. When Weasley suddenly jumped to his feet and made a swooping motion with his hand, Draco knew they were discussing Quidditch. Now Draco loved Quidditch as much as the next wizard, but that was no way to treat your partner at a social event. Granger was certainly beginning to look bored. Concerned as he was over Thomas' behavior, he hadn't given a thought to the probably extremely distraught Pansy Parkinson.   
  
Granger leaned towards the boy and whispered something to him. He nodded, smiling, and she left the table. She walked to the refreshment table and filled a glass with spiced pumpkin juice. She drank this slowly as she continued to stroll somewhat aimlessly around the outskirts of the dancing mob. Something seemed to catch her eye and Granger walked to the open doors that led outside.   
  
Draco watched her look out onto the grounds a look of delight on her face. He knew that he had peculiar thoughts when it came to her. But he hadn't ever given them much consideration before. He had believed that they would go away on their own like a cold. But now that he was confronted with the idea that he might want her, another, even more disturbing notion came to him. What if he actually liked her? What if these odd thoughts extended beyond lust? What then?   
  
Granger glanced back at Thomas and her friends; they were still talking amongst themselves and seemed rather oblivious to the ball going on around them.   
  
"Could I really go against everything that Lucius ever thought me about mudbloods and purebloods? Could I really have feelings for Hermione Granger?" Draco asked himself silently, almost fearing the answer.   
  
Granger took one last look at her date and then walked through the open doors. By the time the last bit of crimson cloth had disappeared Draco had come to a decision.   
  
"Well," he muttered, "there's really only one way to find out, and it's been a long time since I've listened to Lucius."   
  
Draco stole across the dance floor, avoiding spinning couples and plunged through the doors out into the cold. But Draco found that it wasn't very cold out after-all. There was obviously some sort of enchantment going on to keep the temperature comfortable outside. He found that he didn't even need to go put his cloak on. A cool breeze ruffled his smoke-gray dress robes, but it wasn't enough to chill him.   
  
  
The year before, he had left the ball in order to explore the decorated grounds with Pansy, not that they had done much exploring, not in the traditional sense at least. The grounds were different this year though. Everything seemed to be made of ice. Where an open lawn used to be, there was now a maze of ice. Thick walls lined a path of ice bricks. Delicate snowflakes were falling from a clear, cloudless sky. In one large clearing, Draco found a fountain made of ice, water bubbled restlessly from it and froze half way down it's descent, forming tiny little icicles that fell to the bottom where they melted almost immediately. There were no lights that he could see, and yet the whole area glowed with a rosy radiance. But was it rosy? For as Draco turned a corner the light seemed to have become blue, green, and then yellow. The light seemed to be emanating from the ice itself, touching one of the walls gingerly; he found that it wasn't cold.   
  
He had been walking through this winter wonderland for quite some time now and hadn't seen a single sign of Granger anywhere. He had glimpsed other people of course, nameless figures that stood pressed together down some alternate pathway in an ardent embrace.   
  
Draco could hear the melodic music become louder. Either he was nearing the entrance of the ball, or they had turned the music up. Feeling a bit frustrated Draco sat down on an ornately carved bench that should have been freezing seeing as how it was made of ice but wasn't. A movement caught his eye and he looked up, through the wall of ice opposite him, he could see a hazy figure clad in red. Getting to his feet, Draco swiftly started up the path again. Turning left at the nearest opportunity he backtracked and soon found himself in a circular courtyard with benches lining the walls. Granger was sitting on one, looking up at the sky as tiny snowflakes fluttered down. Her brown, curly hair was only half way up; the rest fell around her shoulders in delicate waves, catching stray snowflakes in their tresses.   
  
"No snowflake is alike you know, each one is it's own different little marvel." She said in a low voice as if she was really very far away from him and not just out of reach.   
  
"Actually," he said as he flopped casually onto a neighboring bench, "all you have to do is use the speculum charm and duplicate them. I use to do that all the time when I was younger, really put the muggles in a tizzy when you showed them identical snow...."   
  
Draco trailed off as Granger gave him a withering glare, the nostalgic smirk that he had been wearing faded from his face.   
  
"What do you want Malfoy?"   
  
"I...who said that I wanted anything?" He snapped at her.   
  
Granger looked away without saying anything. Draco thought that she looked oddly small sitting there, a tiny spot of scarlet amongst a field of icy white. Draco felt something soften inside of him.   
  
"I'm sorry, about what I said earlier."   
  
She looked up at him in surprise, "why are you sorry?"   
  
"I shouldn't have said it," he paused and looked at her again, "and I didn't mean it either."   
  
She met his eyes now and smiled. Draco felt his smirk creep back and he sighed happily, this was how it should be. He could hear the music start up again, a distant tune that carried slowly over the ice. He stood up and turned to her holding out his hand. She looked up at him quizzically.   
  
"What?"   
  
Draco rolled his eyes at her before responding, "I'm asking you to dance, Granger."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Dance, Granger, it's what people do at balls, they dance," a hint of amusement was slipping into his voice.   
  
She frowned at him, "you must be joking."   
  
"I saw you dancing with Thomas and I thought that you at least deserved one dance with a real partner. I told you that he was too gangly." Draco replied patiently.   
  
"He is not gangly." Granger snapped, but Draco could tell that she was just saying that out of Gryffindor pride.   
  
"Granger?" Draco's hand was still held out to her.   
  
With a look that said she thought no good could come of this, Granger cautiously raised her hand and set it in his. He had a moment to marvel at how delicately small it seemed in his before he tightened his grip and pulled her gently to her feet.   
  
Granger looked at him nervously, she awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder. Draco smirked at her apprehension and wrapped his arm her waist, his hand resting at the small of her back applying the smallest bit of pressure. Her eyes widened at this contact and she seemed about to tell him off for it but he had already started to dance, pulling her along with him.   
  
Her anxiety seemingly abandoned, Granger let him hold her close as they danced. After a moment she seemed completely at ease and he found that she was smiling in a far-off dreamy sort of way. Her eyes were half closed, her slow movements following the distant music. She let her head rest gently on his shoulder as the music slowed to a crawl. They were barely moving now, the snow still fluttered around them and light glinted softly off of the ice, but Draco wasn't aware of this anymore. He could see only her, one his many enemies, and probably his only friend. Draco knew that at this perfect window in time, it didn't matter that he was a pureblood and she a mudblood. It didn't matter that Lucius was after him or that the Dark Lord would probably kill them all in a year or too. All that mattered right now was that the girl in his dreams was here, and that he was about to kiss her.   
  
He titled his head down towards hers, his lips searching for hers, wanting so badly to feel her respond to him. Draco let his eyes close knowing that he didn't need to see her to find her.   
  
"Malfoy, what's going on with us?" She whispered softly.   
  
Draco snapped back to attention. Granger was looking at him, the question apparent in her face. And Draco felt his perfect moment slip between his fingers and once again the weight of the reality was upon him. To need her like this was impossible for him, he couldn't pretend that is wasn't.   
  
"Why do you always call me Malfoy?" He asked, letting go of her and stepping back.   
  
"Wh...what?" Granger looked puzzled.   
  
The sudden subject change had taken her quite by surprise and Draco forced his most superior smirk.   
  
"You always call me Malfoy, and I always call you Granger, why is that?"   
  
"I...I don't know," she was looking very flustered now. "Well we've never been properly introduced have we?" Granger seemed to grab onto this ridiculous statement out of desperation.   
  
"True, we never did go through the niceties on our first encounter did we?" Draco was feeling himself regain control of the situation. "That's easily remedied you know. Draco Aquilis Malfoy at your service." He bowed slightly.   
  
Granger seemed stunned and she opened and closed her mouth several times obviously trying to think of some witty response. Finding none she simply blushed and looked down at their feet before she replied.   
  
"Hermione Anne Granger, and don't make fun of the initials."   
  
Draco smiled, they seemed like friends at the moment.   
  
"Aquilis? Isn't that Latin?" Hermione asked suddenly drawing his attention back.   
  
"Yes it is, as is Draco."   
  
"I know that Draco is, it means dragon, but Aquilis?" Her brow was crinkled in concentration and she began pacing. "Aquilis...doesn't that mean dark?"   
  
Draco grinned at her, oddly proud of her quick mind, and nodded.   
  
"You're named dark dragon?" A grin suddenly spread across her face.   
  
"It's a family name!" Draco said indignantly.   
  
"Of course it is," she agreed while trying unsuccessfully to stop herself from giggling.   
  
"I see now why we've never been properly introduced." Draco said crossly although the anger didn't reach his eyes and she knew it.   
  
"I won't laugh anymore, I promise." She managed to gasp out between peals of laughter.   
  
Her laughter died down while Draco glared at her disapprovingly and again she seemed lost in thought.   
  
"Mal...Draco?" She said softly.   
  
Draco felt himself want to smile when she called him by his name but he fought against it.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"If you were a wizard in the sixteenth century, and you were writing down something very important, what language would you write it in?" She whispered this breathlessly.   
  
"Well," Draco began trying to think, "it would depend on whether you were well educated. I mean, most wizards back then could write, but the really intellectual ones always seemed to prefer dead languages like Greek or..." his voice trailed off and he met her eyes. "You don't think...?"   
  
"Of course! That explains it!" She cried gleefully. "He wrote the books in Latin before he translated them into Arithmancy codes!"   
  
Hermione bounded forward and threw her arms around Draco and excitedly kissed his cheek. Before he could even react she had grabbed his arm and spun around. Pulling him behind her she rushed back up the icy path.   
  
"What? Where are we going?" He managed to ask; still feeling shocked over her exuberant display.   
  
"The library of course. We have to start translating now!" She replied over her shoulder.   
  
"But what about the ball?"   
  
"How can you think about balls at a time like this?" She stopped short and turned to face him. "We're on the brink of discovering what is written in those books. Don't you want to know what was so very important that O'Leary went to all this trouble?" She let go of his arm and glared at him, "are you coming or not?"   
  
Draco stared at the crimson-clad Gryffindor; she looked like she might explode due to excitement. And he had to admit that he felt it too.   
  
"Of course I am...Hermione."   
  
  
_____________________________________________________________   
***Please Read & Review!!! It really means a lot to me when you do, I swear.... It makes me so happy. There will be another chapter in a week or so!


	15. An Ambush & Tea with Hagrid

**Everything belongs to JK Rowling. Nothing to me. Sigh  
  
***I'm so sorry that this took me so long to post. I'm such a slacker sometimes, but I can blame it on the holidays, can't I? Please? And thank you to everyone that has reviewed me. I really really appreciate it.   
______________________________________________________  
  
  
  
  
Hermione yawned and stretched out her hand trying to pull her pillow back under her cheek. Even though she was still half asleep, she could still identify the hard thing under her head as a book.   
  
"Should have put my books away before I went to bed," she thought to herself sleepily.   
  
Hermione stayed that way, torn between sleep and wakefulness, for another moment before she remembered something extremely important. She had never gone to bed the night before. That certainly shocked her fully awake.   
  
She was still in their room. She had been sleeping in her large, squishy chair, the book that she had been trying to translate serving as a pillow. Hermione rubbed her eyes, it was rather dark in the room, the fires had never been lit and the candles had smoldered themselves out ages ago. There was a chill in the air and Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around herself, trying to fend off the cold. But in her rush, she had left her cloak at the ball with Dean; this cloak was dark gray and would match perfectly with the dress robes that Draco had been wearing at the ball.   
  
Hermione pulled the lapels of the cloak tighter and tilted her head slightly so that she could feel the softness of the fabric against her cheek. It smelled faintly of some exotic spice, perhaps patchouli. Draco himself, she noticed, was still sitting across from her in the dark, his head propped up against his hand. Pale tousled hair that seemed to almost glow in the dimness was hanging low over his face.   
  
Hermione yawned again and wished that she had at least gone to change before she had drug him up here. As if waking up in a dark cold room after you had been sleeping in a chair wasn't bad enough, she had done it in her new dress robes.   
  
She stood up unsteadily and walked to the windows, it was very dark outside, not that she would have been able to see anything through the glass even if it hadn't been the middle of the night. The window was covered in a fine sheet of frost.   
  
She returned to the table and lightly touched Draco's shoulder. When he didn't stir she leaned down and whispered quietly.   
  
"Mal...Draco, wake up."   
  
He didn't respond. Hermione glared at his sleeping form, he would have to be a deep sleeper. Leaning closer, she tightened her grip on his arm.   
  
"Draco," she shook his arm, "wake up."  
  
And he did. With a startled grunt he jerked back from the table and grabbed her. Before Hermione could even register what was happening, she found herself laying on the table staring wide-eyed up at Draco. He held her arm painfully tight and she was very aware of the tip of his wand pointing at her throat.   
  
"Malfoy! Have you gone daft?" She snapped, half in anger, half in fear.  
  
His dark gray eyes lightened as he recognized her and he let go of her arm.  
  
"Hermione, what are you doing in my dorm?" Draco's surprise faded and he gave Hermione a seductive smirk.  
  
"Get off Draco, I'm not in your dorm, and neither are you." Hermione said sourly.  
  
Draco stepped back from her, and Hermione sat up, she was still leaning against the table. Her arm was beginning to ache slightly and she grimaced.  
  
"Did I hurt you?" Draco's smirk faded and he stepped closer to her again.  
  
"No, no, I'm sure that once the blood starts flowing again everything will be fine." Hermione said waspishly.   
  
"Here, let me see."   
  
Draco didn't wait for an answer; he took her arm and gently pushed up the flared sleeve of her robe. In the dark, the vibrant scarlet was a dark maroon, and it contrasted strongly with the bright white of her arm. Even in the dark, the place where he had gripped her arm could be seen; small red splotches marked where his fingers had been.  
  
"Bloody hell Granger, why do you have to bruise so easily? That's no fun at all."   
  
Hermione glared at him, but he only smiled at her with amusement. He hadn't let go of her arm and Hermione's glare faded as she realized that he was gently tracing the marks with the tip of his thumb. She swallowed hard as he looked down at her, looked into her. Suddenly aware of how close he was to her, she tried to move back, which was quite impossible since she was leaning against the heavy wooden table.   
  
Draco seemed to become aware of their closeness as well and he immediately let go her arm and let the sleeve fall back down. He turned away from her and started to rummage through a box for a spare candle. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and felt her heart beat start to slow again.   
  
"We must have fallen asleep." She said breathlessly.  
  
"Good show of stating the obvious."   
  
Draco's superior smirk was lost in the darkness, but Hermione knew that it was there. She could almost hear it.   
  
"Well you're rather disagreeable when you don't get your beauty sleep aren't you?" She snapped.  
  
A candle flared in time for her to see the bemused look that Draco was wearing before it disappeared in shadows again. He set the candle on the table and looked down at the large book that he had been going through.   
  
"This is harder than I thought it would be," Hermione muttered more to herself than to him.  
  
"Blasted code. Why on earth did he have to make his own Arithmancy system?" Draco glared at the book.  
  
"The code? I'm talking about the Latin; the Arithmancy is the easy part. It's all just a list of corresponding numbers." Hermione sat down dejectedly next to him.  
  
"Certum est, quia impossibile." Draco said softly.  
  
Hermione arched an eyebrow, "you speak Latin?"  
  
"I can speak it, read, and write it." Draco's voice held more than a hint of pride.  
  
"You're joking."  
  
"Classical education," Draco said sounding offended. "What, did you think that my education started here at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Well, don't most witches and wizards..." Hermione began.  
  
"Do the Malfoys sound like most witches and wizards to you?" Draco questioned. "I've had tutors for as long as I can remember. Lucius always believed that I should have a solid foundation for later schooling. Oh, and most dark magic spells are in Latin." He added that as an afterthought.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," Hermione told him, torn between amusement and disapproval.  
  
"Hermione, I think that you're really seeing this the wrong way." Draco told her patiently.   
  
"Oh really? I've only devoted a great deal of my time to this project and I don't seem to be getting anywhere. I know that the answers are right there in front of me and I just can't read them." She broke off here, a little out of breath.  
  
"Oh calm down Hermione, I don't think you're looking at this rationally." He spoke slowly as if he was afraid of another outburst, but Hermione could tell that he was still finding this very entertaining.  
  
"Oh I'm not thinking rationally am I, Malfoy?" She said acidly.  
  
"No, you're not Granger," he retorted with an equal measure of bite. "You are a marvel with the codes and I am a linguistical genius."   
  
Hermione just rolled her eyes.  
  
"Come on Granger, put it together." Draco decided that she must be too tired to think properly and didn't wait for her answer. "You can break the code and I'll translate, if we work together it shouldn't be a problem. Teamwork, Granger."   
  
Hermione sighed, her head hurt and she was achy from cold. He was right, of course, she hated when he was right.   
  
"Fine! We'll work together." She agreed finally, "But I think that we should wait for tomorrow before we start."   
  
Draco nodded at her and he started to blow out the candles. Hermione turned to gather her things and then remembered that she had come here straight from the ball. She had only taken a moment or two to exchange hurried apologies with Dean for leaving early. Harry and Ron had both complained that she had promised them each a dance and Ginny had given her a knowing look, but Hermione had been able to sidestep them all and escape into the hall. In her excitement, she hadn't noticed Harry and Ron watching her leave with Draco.   
  
"Ready?" Draco whispered from the door.  
  
Hermione nodded her curly head even though there was no way that he could see it in the dark.   
  
After she had locked the door to their room, they stole stealthily down the spiral stairs and then across the library. They would normally part ways outside of the library, but Draco seemed lost in thought and he accompanied her through the silent halls back towards Gryffindor tower. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed very distant.   
  
The fat lady was snoring softly when they reached the portrait hole. Hermione turned to Draco, was he intending on following her in?  
  
"Draco?" She whispered.  
  
"So this is the way into Gryffindor Tower? Good thing to know." He muttered softly.  
  
"Oh yes, because you love to drop by and visit every now and then."  
  
Hermione stood patiently waiting for him to leave, as tired as she was, there was no way she was going to announce the password in front of him. But Draco seemed to not be paying attention. Hermione remembered his cloak.  
  
"Here," she murmured as she pulled the dark gray cloak from her shoulders.  
  
Draco took it from her slowly, as if not really seeing it. He was staring at her with a look that Hermione found somewhat unsettling and exciting at the same time. His gray eyes were once again stormy and dark, his face half hidden in shadow. He seemed about to say something, or perhaps do something, when a movement caught both of their attention.   
  
Sitting only a few feet away was Mrs. Norris, her large glowing eyes studying them in the darkness.   
  
Hermione gasped and stepped back, "you had better go, she can summon Filch faster than you would think."  
  
"And how often have you run into that blasted cat after hours?" Draco whispered in surprise, a note of respect in his voice.  
  
"More often than I would have liked, now you had better go!" Hermione motioned with her arm at the staircase.   
  
Draco still stood, unmoving.  
  
"Look, if you get caught, who will help me translate Latin tomorrow?" She pleaded.  
  
Draco looked at Mrs. Norris, and then back to Hermione. He nodded and then dashed down the stairs. Mrs. Norris gave Hermione a cold look before turning to follow. Hermione turned to the portrait and whispered,  
  
"Christmas Cheer"  
  
The fat lady snorted in her sleep and then spoke in a yawn, "You've been out late dearie, you should tell your boyfriend not to keep you out after hours. He is a handsome one though." The pink lady smiled as Hermione flushed.  
  
"He's not my boyfriend!" she snapped as she stepped through the portrait hole.  
  
"Of course he isn't," the voice called out in amusement as the picture swung shut behind her.  
  
The common room was dark and Hermione made her way up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Lavender and Parvarti were sound asleep when she got there. A clock by her bedside told her that it was four in the morning. Hermione quickly pulled off her dress robes and then slipped on her pajamas. Feeling comforted by the soft flannel, Hermione allowed herself time to think about what had been weighing on her mind all night. Draco Malfoy.  
  
Hermione climbed onto her bed and pulled the curtains closed around her. She slid under her thick feather-down comforter and stared up at the crimson canopy. What in the world was going on?  
  
She couldn't figure it out, one minute he was the same old Malfoy. The same boy that hated all mudbloods and wished her and her friends nothing but ill will. But then, the next moment he would be kind and almost caring. Hermione shivered suddenly as she pictured his deep gray eyes looking into hers.   
  
She hadn't expected him to come to her during the ball. She was glad that he had though. It wasn't that she hadn't been enjoying herself at the dance. It just wasn't what she had wanted. Even though it was silly, she could never quite dismiss the need for something magical to happen. And as much as Hermione hated to admit it, dancing with Draco under a star filled sky with snowflakes falling delicately around them had been more magical than she could have ever wished for.   
  
  
  
The next morning dawned clear, crisp, and bright. Light glistened all around as the wet snow shone in the sun. There was no hint that another storm was brewing, inside or outside of Gryffindor tower. And Hermione woke up feeling relaxed and happy. A sparkle of anticipation fluttered around in her stomach. Whether it was the prospect of finally making some headway with books, or the fact that Draco would be waiting for her, she didn't know.   
  
Dressing quickly, Hermione pulled one of her black school robes off the back of a chair and scooped her backpack off of the floor before starting down to the common room. She hummed a melody as she walked along the stairs. Had she given it a little thought, Hermione would have remembered that it was the song that she and Draco had danced too. But Hermione was too light hearted to give it any real consideration.   
  
She had almost reached the bottom landing when the fourth year girls' dorm swung open a floor above her. Hurried steps were descending quickly.  
  
"Hermione?" Ginny's voice echoed down the stairs.  
  
Hermione called back over her shoulder as she crossed to the entrance of the common room. "I'm in a bit of a rush Gin, I'll meet you for lunch."   
  
"No, wait, Hermione you don't understand."   
  
But Ginny's pleas fell on deaf ears as Hermione walked through the archway and into the common room. She stopped short when she found Ron and Harry sitting at a near-by table. Their expressions were unreadable, but the stiff way that Harry sat told her that whatever this was about, they were determined. An unbidden thought ran through Hermione's mind as they stared her down. Ambush.  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny had suddenly appeared on the landing behind her looking very out of breath. Her eyes fell on Harry and Ron. "I tried to warn you." She whispered.  
  
"Wh...what's going on?" Hermione asked cautiously, her light mood sinking.  
  
"You should sit down Hermione," Harry told her decidedly.  
  
Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron and then back at Ginny before she sat down at the table. Ron gave Ginny a dark look as she took a seat next to Hermione, but he didn't say anything. Harry and Ron looked at each other unsure of where to begin. Ron finally becoming exasperated turned to Hermione with a glower and virtually spat at her.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing with that prat Malfoy?"   
  
Hermione's jaw dropped and she stared at Ron in shock. How could he have known? Was it so obvious that she was having strange feelings and ideas about Draco.   
  
"We saw you leave the ball with him." Harry said quickly as Ron looked about ready to say something equally unpleasant.   
  
"Oh," Hermione said in relief, "is that all? Draco and I just wanted to go to the library."  
  
Ron's face suddenly suffused with color and Hermione knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing.   
  
"Draco? Since when do you call him Draco?" Ron's voice was low and dangerous.  
  
"I...well it's just easier than calling him Malfoy all the time." She muttered.  
  
"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry asked calmly.  
  
"What's going on? Isn't it obvious Harry, that stupid git has done something to her!"   
  
"Oh shut up Ron!" Hermione snapped as her temper gave way.   
  
It was now Ron's turn to stare at her with his mouth-agape.   
  
"He's not evil you know." She said angrily, "you've never even given him chance, not that he's really ever deserved one I'll admit, but you can't get angry at me just because I've made the best of a bad situation and found that it isn't that bad after all."   
  
"You don't get it!" Ron glowered at Hermione.  
  
"Ron," Harry tried to cut in but Ron ignored him.  
  
"It's Malfoy! He's a Slytherin, and he is evil. How can you just forget that? I'll bet he's already down on the list for future death eaters. How can you defend him?"   
  
Ron had gotten to his feet when he began his rant. And Hermione stood up quickly so that he wasn't towering above her. Both Harry and Ginny edged away from the feuding pair.  
  
"He's not a death eater!" Hermione yelled back at him. "And he's not going to be either!"  
  
"Oh that's rich, what, did he tell you that when you caught him helping little old witches across the street at Hogsmeade?" Ron's face was bright red now and everyone in the common room had stopped to watch.   
  
"Ron," Harry tried again to stop his friend before could go to far.  
  
"I believe him!" Hermione said shrilly, her face equally red.  
  
"You can't trust him, he's a slimy Slytherin!" Ron shook off Harry's hand. "You are so stupid Hermione!"  
  
"Ron!" Both Ginny and Harry gasped at once.  
  
Ron stopped short, slightly out of breath and wild-eyed, he slowly seemed to realize what he had been saying. The common room was silent, he glanced around, all eyes were upon them. He turned back to face Hermione, she was unnaturally white.   
  
"Hermione," he began.  
  
She stepped back from the table. Her hands were trembling and she could hardly see through the silvery cloud of tears that were in her eyes. Hermione pulled her bag back onto her shoulder and took another step backward.   
  
"Hermione, I didn't mean it like that." Ron whispered.  
  
She shook her head at him and felt one large tear slip down her cheek. Hermione turned suddenly and ran across the common. She darted though the portrait hole and left it hanging open. Ron called her name once in desperation but she didn't stop running.  
  
Hermione fled blindly down the stairs. She crossed one corridor after another trying to put as much distance between Ron, Harry, and herself. She ignored the wondrous glances that she was receiving from her fellow classmates and she didn't even acknowledge Neville when she past him in the Transfiguration hall.   
  
It was instinct alone that guided Hermione to the library. It was because of her deep rooted belief that whatever problem she might be facing, reading a book would somehow make it better, that she found herself standing at one end of the gallery that led to the library.   
  
A door to her immediate right, the boy's bathroom, opened and a figure with pale hair and Slytherin robes stepped from it. Hermione looked up at Draco in surprise and relief. It was comforting to see him, even if she didn't know why. His gray eyes flashed angrily as he noticed her tear streaked face. He seemed about to say something to her when the door opened again and Draco was followed by Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Hermione wiped at her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve, but she couldn't hide the flushed cheeks or red eyes. Cruel, identical grins spread across Crabbe and Goyle's faces.  
  
"Oh look, the mudblood has been crying," Goyle's grin broadened.  
  
"What's wrong Granger? Potter and Weasley don't love you anymore?" Crabbe laughed.   
  
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at Draco. He looked away, his gray eyes focusing on something along the wall in the distance. She realized that he wasn't going to say anything, that he was just going to stand by and pretend like there was nothing between them, like they were still enemies. Were they still enemies?  
  
For the second time that evening, she found herself incapable of looking at someone that she cared for. She pulled her eyes away from his face and studied the floor. Crabbe and Goyle took a threatening step towards her and Hermione stepped back. There weren't any answers to be found in the library today. Hermione felt as if the walls were closing in and the tears that had almost stopped at the pleasure of seeing Draco were promising to pour down her cheeks in a mere moment. Hermione turned from the trio and sped down the hall.   
  
She hardly knew where she was going, only that she needed to be outside where the air was fresh and she could breathe. Hermione didn't stop running until she had reached the edge of the lake. Here she collapsed onto a large fallen log and tried to reclaim her breath.   
  
The snow was piled deep and a thin sheet of ice covered the lake. The sky, which had been bright earlier that morning, was darkening now as a winter storm approached. The wind picked up and Hermione shivered. In all the confusion, she had somehow forgotten her cloak again; it lay in a piled heap on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them trying to be as warm as possible; it wasn't working tremendously well.  
  
"'ermione?" A booming voice almost made her fall off the log.  
  
"Hagrid," she replied quietly, a quavering note still lingering in her voice.  
  
"Yeh know, 'arry and Ron 'ave been out lookin for yeh. Asked me if I 'ad seen yeh. Might worried they 're."   
  
Hermione looked away from Hagrid and struggled not to cry anymore. How could she go back and face them? After what Ron had said to her, in front of everyone. How could she go back knowing that he was right after all?   
  
A sudden, heavy weight fell upon her shoulders and Hermione found herself enveloped in Hagrid's moleskin coat. She turned to face him in surprise.  
  
"C'mon, I'll make us a bit of tea. Rather obvious that yeh need some." Hagrid easily picked her up and set her on her feet. He turned and headed towards his hut. Hermione had no choice but to follow.  
  
Two steaming cups of tea later, Hermione was beginning to feel herself again. Hagrid, who seemed to know better than to ask her what was wrong, was explaining his plans for his next class. School would be starting up in a few days and he was almost as glad as Hermione was. He was animatedly telling her about a pair of Bulettes that he had managed to acquire. Hermione knew better than to ask where, or better why, he had gotten them. She knew them to be very dangerous beasts not native to the British Isles. Their penchant for meat and ferocity in a fight were well known, but she found herself smiling at the hulking man anyway.   
  
"Hagrid," a sudden thought had just occurred to her, "did you and Professor Dumbledore ever catch the manticore?"   
  
"Aye, week or so back. 'ad to put the thing down." Hagrid's face fell as he mentioned this. "It's interestin' that the thing went after Malfoy. Being Lucius' son n' all."  
  
"Well Draco isn't like Lucius!" Hermione snapped indignantly before she could stop herself.  
  
"Draco is et?"   
  
Hermione flushed but Hagrid's eyes twinkled with amusement.  
  
"Ron did mention somethin' to me about you being in over yer head with that Slytherin. But I told him and Harry that yeh've got a smart 'ead on yer shoulders and that yeh can take care of yehself." He poured them another cup of tea.  
  
Hermione smiled at Hagrid and then sighed softly. "I don't know Hagrid, they might be right. Draco is just so impossible sometimes. He's everything that I hate, and yet..."   
  
"I don' think that ruddy git would know how to behave properly if someone was nice to em. And yeh Hermione, yer a nice girl."   
  
Hermione hoped very hard that she wasn't about to cry again, but it was a losing battle and Hagrid handed her a handkerchief that was so large she could have wrapped it around her waist and used it as a skirt.   
  
"I wouldna judge any of them too 'ardly. Boys do strange things when emotions are involved. Don' know how to act if yeh ask me. Mind yeh, we never grow out of that." Hagrid laughed heartily and after a moment Hermione joined in.   
  
"Thanks Hagrid." Hermione whispered softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.   
  
______________________________________________________  
**My apologies that this took me so very long to do. Ooh... I took a monster from the AD&D monster manual again for Hagrid's new 'creature'. Anyhoo...please Read&Review. 


	16. All a Game

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.....none to me. :(  
  
***Thank you to everyone that has reviewed me, I really appreciate it. And to those of you who have even go so far as to email, thanks too. And especially to levitating kitty who gives me feedback on aim. And thank you vegeta for beta-reading for me.  
  
****I know.... This fic just keeps going and going, it was never meant to be this long I swear, I just really got into the whole Hermione/Draco thing. (And I'm not done yet!) It doesn't help either that Draco won't keep his foot out of his mouth. I swear...he's a four year old. Instead of going to Hermione and saying "Hermione, this upsets me, I think we should talk about it." He pushes her down and steals her Barbie doll. (Not literally of course....but you know what I mean.) Anyhoo....enough from me....  
____________________________________________________  
  
  
Draco slouched into the library as dusk settled upon the castle. The approaching snowstorm had nearly arrived and the Headmaster had suggested during dinner that the students should remain indoors until it was over. Draco had hoped to find Hermione there at the Gryffindor table, as much as he disliked seeing her with those annoying friends of hers hanging all about her, he would at least have seen her. Draco had been unable to find her after the incident earlier that morning outside of the library.   
  
She had disappeared almost at once, and if Draco hadn't read Hogwart's A History in his first year, he would have bet all of the Malfoy fortune that she had simply apparated out of the school. But since that was impossible, Draco figured that she had to be around somewhere. He had tried to follow her after Crabbe and Goyle had wandered off in search of an early lunch. But Draco had lost her trail somewhere near the Transfiguration corridor. He spent the next few hours strolling through the school, there wasn't anyway that he could search everywhere, but having a bit of an insight into the mindset of Hermione, and her being a Gryffindor at that, he could easily avoid all of the dungeons. It seemed highly unlikely as well that she had gone to the Astronomy tower, he had overheard her mentioning once to Potter while passing them in the entrance hall, that she found it awfully drafty. Her strong dislike of Divination and Professor Trelawney would keep her away from that tower as well. And the girl had too much respect for her professors to go anywhere near the faculty quarters. So he had searched what was left. But there had been no sign of her though, no whisper or breath, nothing anywhere.   
  
What he had seen though, was Potter and Weasley, appearing somewhat worried, in the Arithmancy hall. He had ducked into the shadows of a near by alcove and they passed without noticing him. The two boys had been deep in conversation.  
  
"Where could she have gone?" Weasley asked worriedly.  
  
"Well, Ginny checked all the girls' bathrooms, so we know she's not there." Potter replied. "And Fred and George said that they'd keep an eye out for her down near the great hall."  
  
"Like Ginny would tell us even if she did find her. And Fred and George only said that so they could go eat lunch instead of helping." Weasley grumbled.   
  
"Think we should check the library again? You know how Hermione is."   
  
"Correction, we did know how Hermione was, now that she's taken up with that stupid git though... I mean, she defended him! Oh, really, Malfoy's not that bad, really we should all throw him a party and give him a bloody medal for being not quite as evil as we all thought!" Weasley snapped angrily.  
  
"Ron..."  
  
"I know, I know. I shouldn't have said that to her. But she always takes it the wrong way." Weasley looked at the floor glumly.  
  
"I think, sometimes, you say things the wrong way." Potter spoke quietly.   
  
Draco had needed to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from lashing out at the unsuspecting boys. It was very tempting to jump out and curse the two Gryffindors from behind, but Draco wasn't stupid. Potter was decent at spells and he had stood up to the Dark Lord on more than one occasion, and Weasley could throw a mean punch. And in the back of his mind, Draco could almost hear her voice asking him not to. He had let them move off, hand clenched so tightly around his wand that it was surprising that it hadn't snapped in half. It was only until much later, during the dinner, where she hadn't shown up, that he realized what Weasley had said; she had defended him. She had stood up for him.  
  
A small part of Draco had been pleased when he noticed how glum Potter and Weasley had looked during dinner. They had obviously not had any luck in finding her either. This small part of him probably would have gloated a bit more than it did if he hadn't been so worried himself.   
  
So, after dinner, Draco had finally resolved the fact to himself that he simply wasn't going to find her. That wherever she was it was a good hiding place. Not having anything better to do, he came to the library.  
  
Draco opened the door to their room and stopped. He had expected it to be dark, cold, and empty. Instead, a fire was blazing in the grate and its warmth was suffusing the room. More surprising than that was a certain Gryffindor sitting at the table surrounded by tall stacks of books.   
  
The door closed behind him with an audible click. Hermione glanced up at him. An expression that he couldn't read flitted across her face before it disappeared behind a rather professional smile.   
  
"I was beginning to wonder when you would get here. I've been here for hours." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I think I might have it. I've come up with several different keys." She held up a stack of parchment without pausing, "of course, I can't check to see if any of them work without some sort of translation to compare it too, which is where you come in, of course. You never came though, but you are here now. So if you just want to start with this one, I think it's our best bet."   
  
She had shuffled through her stack of parchments until she found the one she was looking for. Hermione held it out to him with a trace of that same smile that Draco didn't quite understand. Several questions were swirling in his head so Draco asked the first one that came to mind.  
  
"Where have you been?"   
  
"I was having tea with Hagrid this afternoon." She told him primly.  
  
"You went off, in weather like this, without telling anyone, so that you could go have tea with that...that half-giant?" Draco's relief at finding her was quickly turning into anger.  
  
"The weather wasn't very bad when I went out there. And Hagrid walked me back to the castle later." She spoke calmly but a telltale flush was rising on her cheeks.  
  
"Oh, so you don't give a single thought to your friends, you just do as you please!" Draco snapped.  
  
"I'm sorry, the next time I'll get a signed permission slip, will that make you happy?" Her calm voice quavered ever so slightly.  
  
"Don't patronize me, Granger."   
  
"Well then don't act so childish, Malfoy."  
  
Draco glared down at her. Sitting with her back straight and her arms crossed, Hermione looked every bit the disapproving school-mum. She met his gaze unflinchingly, her chin held high with defiance. Before he could stop himself, before he could squelch the impulse, Draco's hand touched her chin, and then cupped her cheek. Her eyes widened, but she angrily refused to look away. The fact that he was now kissing her seemed to take both of them by surprise. Draco couldn't quite recall when he made the decision to do that, but here they were. He pulled her to her feet without breaking the kiss. She leaned closer to him and his hands dropped to her waist where they each took a tight handful of her robe. He was lost in the blissful moment for only a second when he found her suddenly struggling against him. Draco let her go regretfully.  
  
"Stop it!" She cried out as he released her.  
  
She was looking up at him, her brown eyes filling with tears and the professional tone that she'd had when he'd first found her was now gone completely.  
  
"You can't keep doing that!" her voice trembled. "You can't keep kissing me, you can't be hateful one moment and then...and then be like this the next." A tear slipped down her cheek and she rubbed at her eyes angrily. "Here, just work on these all right?"  
  
Again she held out her stack of parchment to him and this time he took it. Hermione wasn't meeting his eyes now; she was looking at the floor. As soon as the papers left her hand, she turned from him and started putting away her books.  
  
"You're leaving?" Draco finally found his voice.  
  
Hermione nodded but didn't look up. Her shoulders trembled and Draco stood quietly, not knowing what to do.   
  
"I've already done as much as I can today anyway." Her voice was high-pitched and quavering.  
  
Draco looked down at the papers in his hand. Her tiny writing was scrawled across them. He noticed, quite suddenly, that his hand was shaking slightly. Draco immediately turned from her and walked around the table. He let his bag drop onto the table a little harder than he had meant to and the sudden noise brought her eyes up to his. The warm brown eyes were filled with the self-doubt and pain that she had been trying to hide earlier. Hermione looked away suddenly and walked to the door.   
  
"They were looking for you. Your friends, Potter and Weasley."   
  
She stopped, listening.  
  
"I just thought that...well, I thought that you should know they were worried about you." Draco watched her closely.  
  
"Thank you." She said before walking out the door.  
  
The door had been closed for several minutes before Draco spoke again in the empty room.  
  
"I think I was worried too."  
  
  
  
Draco worked diligently in the library for the rest of winter break. On the second day he broke the code, well, they broke the code. But since Hermione was never there, he felt as though he deserved most of the acclaim. Not that there was much to be had. The books turned out to be person journals, very long-winded, personal journals. Still, he went to the library daily to translate them. He never stopped believing that she would be arriving soon. Hermione never came to their room though. If he didn't find the whole fiasco so terribly annoying, he would have been impressed with her tenacious attitude, but at the moment Draco only found her to be very stubborn. The only bright side that he could see was that she seemed to be spending even less time with Potter and Weasley than she was with him.   
  
He had noticed almost immediately that she no longer sat with them during meals. She generally sat at one end of the long Gryffindor table with Weasley's kid sister. And on some rare occasions, she even sat at the Ravenclaw table with some friends from Arithmancy. Every now and then Draco would catch Potter or Weasley casting worried glances at her, and it never failed to please him when she ignored then completely. It helped him forget that she was, of course, ignoring him as well.  
  
  
  
It was the last day of the Christmas holiday when Draco finally saw her again with Potter and Weasley. She was sitting in one of the virtually deserted courtyards reading a book. He was about to approach when Potter and Weasley appeared through one of the stone archways. Draco was to far away to hear what they were saying but after a moment of what looked like a rather heated exchange, Hermione started to cry and the other two boys looked very relieved.   
  
Draco gritted his teeth as he saw her throw her arms around Weasley and bury her face in his cloak. He grew even angrier when Weasley hugged her back. And when she turned to give Potter the same treatment, Draco found that he couldn't hold himself back anymore. He strode forward into the courtyard.  
  
Weasley saw him first. "What do you want Malfoy?"  
  
"Nothing much, just wanted to congratulate you all. The whole school will be thrilled to know that the wonder trio has finally made up." He drawled coldly.  
  
"Shut up Malfoy." Potter snapped.  
  
"Why don't you make me Potter." He responded with equal vehemence.  
  
Potter let go of Hermione and both he and Weasley stepped towards Draco. The Slytherin wasn't afraid though; he held his wand tightly inside his pocket and let his anger guide him. But before any of them could say or do anything, Hermione rushed forward, putting herself between them.  
  
"Please don't fight, Harry, Ron, please." She pleaded with them. She looked to Draco without saying anything; her large brown eyes said all she needed to say to him. But Draco was too angry too listen, and at the moment, those warm, knowing eyes only served to make him angrier.  
  
"Do you always have to get in the way Granger?" He asked icily.  
  
She flinched but stood her ground. Weasley pushed past her.  
  
"Don't talk to her like that Malfoy," he hissed.  
  
"I can talk to her anyway that I want to Weasley."   
  
Potter brushed passed her now; Draco noticed that he had now drawn his wand. A part of Draco wondered distantly why he was doing this, but he was too angry to really put much thought into an answer.   
  
"Now Potter, are wands necessary? Aren't we all friends here?" Draco asked snidely.  
  
"That's really funny Malfoy." Weasley forced a laugh.  
  
"Aren't we friends Hermione?" Draco asked, turning to her suddenly, twisting her name derisively.  
  
She looked away from him without saying anything. And Draco felt somewhat vindicated.   
  
"We should be friends, I know you in ways those two of can't even imagine." He caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers and smirked when she blushed. Draco felt triumphant as Potter and Weasley looked at him with shock and disbelief.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean Malfoy?" Potter asked.  
  
"You know what I mean," Draco responded in a knowing voice and gave the two boys a wink.  
  
There was an angry roar from the two Gryffindors but before either of them could move Hermione did something that made them all stop. She hit Draco across the face. His light blonde hair fell across his eyes when he looked back up at her. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking. Potter and Weasley were staring at her in surprise, but Draco's eyes never left hers. Those brown eyes that seemed to mirror his own soul sometimes.  
  
"I was wrong." She whispered.  
  
Draco wasn't sure if she had spoken loud enough for Potter or Weasley to hear, but at the moment she seemed completely oblivious to either of them. He was utterly unable to look away from the pretty young girl. She wasn't making any effort to not cry in front of him, her delicate tears were falling freely. She held him hostage for only another moment before she turned from him and the others and walked across the snowy courtyard, her head held high.   
  
Potter and Weasley watched her go in silence. Once she had disappeared through the same archway that they had come from, they turned back to look at Draco.   
  
"You're really something else aren't you Malfoy?" Potter asked coldly.  
  
Draco noticed that Potter had a tight grip on the back of Weasley's robes, which was probably a good thing as the red head looked like he could easily bring himself to murder Draco with his bare hands.   
  
"Let's go," Potter muttered to his friend. Weasley looked about to argue but then turned and followed the other boy.  
  
Draco was left alone, glaring down at the snow. She just didn't understand. It wasn't very fair in his opinion. She had forgiven them. And Draco knew that they were the reason why she had been so upset. But who was she talking to? Who was she loyal to? The blasted Gryffindors of course. Draco angrily kicked at the snow, but he couldn't help feeling that he should be kicking himself.   
  
  
  
Draco glanced yet again at Hermione, but as she had been since she had sat down, she was staring straight ahead and refused to acknowledge his presence. It was the first day back at classes and he had been looking forward to Arithmancy. True, it was his favorite class after Potions, but more importantly, she couldn't avoid him there. And yet, much to his great annoyance, she seemed to be doing exactly that.   
  
Professor Vector droned on with her lecture, which was probably very interesting, but Draco couldn't bring himself to pay attention. It was as if the past several months had never happened. As if this was the first day of the year, and not the first day of the new semester. Hermione sat as far from him as possible. All of her things lay stacked neatly at the edge of the desk. Her quill ran back and forth across a piece of slightly curled parchment. He knew what she was doing; she was shutting out every possible distraction and focusing entirely on the Professor. But there wasn't any reason to pay attention to the Professor. Draco was willing to admit that Hermione probably knew almost as much about Arithmancy as he did, maybe even more when it came to polynomials. The only reason why she was concentrating so hard was so that she wouldn't have to think about him. This was a highly egotistical notion of Draco's, but being a Malfoy, the belief that the world does, in fact, revolve around oneself was an inherited trait. On this occasion though, Draco was correct.   
  
He glanced at the hourglass that was perched precariously on a tilting stack books on the Professor's desk. Class would be over soon, and Hermione hadn't even had the grace to look at him. Draco glared at her profile and then knocked his Arithmancy book to the floor. The sudden racket drew every eye to him, including the ones that he had hoped for. For the first time in several days, Draco found himself staring into her dark eyes and they weren't pleased to see him. Hermione glared at him and it was a look that he knew very well. It was the same expression that she always used to wear concerning him. Her eyes were filled with loathing, and something deeper, pain and betrayal. She then turned back to Professor Vector and didn't look at him again for the rest of class.   
  
Draco sat glumly as the last purple grains of sand slithered to the bottom of the hourglass and students started to collect their things. He watched as Hermione quickly made her way down the steps and an idea occurred to him. Draco jumped to feet and rushed down towards Hermione, taking the steps two at a time. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the class before she could disappear into the thronged mass that was passing in the hall. She turned to him with an angry remark on the tip of her tongue, but as he had expected, she couldn't bring herself to say anything in front of their teacher.  
  
"Professor Vector," Draco pulled Hermione over to where she was standing.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, how are things going with your project? Come across anything exciting?" Professor Vector beamed at them.  
  
"Oh yes Professor, Hermione and I devoted most of our Christmas break to deciphering some old journals of O'Leary's that he had written in Latin and then coded." Draco smiled back at her and tightened his grip on Hermione.   
  
"I am so glad, to tell you the truth, I was afraid that it might be a bit too advanced for you two. I know that I was asking a lot."  
  
"Oh no Professor," Draco was using all the Malfoy charm that he had. "After our last progress report, you said something about coming to see what we have done. And I was thinking Professor, if you don't have a class, that you might like to come now?" Draco's smile grew wider.  
  
"That is an excellent idea Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger."   
  
Draco grinned as Professor Vector followed him out of the room, his grin turned into a victorious smile as Hermione began to trail a few steps behind. The trip to the library was rather short. Since they were walking with a teacher, the other students gave them a wide berth. Professor Vector was very impressed with the translation that Draco had written up, and virtually glowed at Hermione when she examined her different keys. And then the Professor was gone on her way, leaving them alone in their room.   
  
"Hermione?" Draco asked softly, she had seemed lost in thought, staring out the window.   
  
With the sound of his voice, Hermione seemed to realize that they were alone. She moved towards the door but stopped when Draco stepped in front of it.   
  
"No, you're not leaving." He told her firmly.  
  
"Like to see you stop me." She muttered coldly.  
  
"Is that an invitation Granger?"   
  
"You really enjoy this don't you? You really like this game. How typical." She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Draco crossed his arms, mimicking her.  
  
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." She seethed. "You just love to play with people. You know Harry is still angry with me and Ron...Ron won't even acknowledge my presence."  
  
Draco stepped a bit farther to the left, making absolutely sure that the door was blocked before he continued. "I upset Potter and Weasley? Oh no, however shall I live with myself now?"  
  
"The really sad part about all of this is that I don't really even have a right to be angry with you. You can't help being the way you are, cold and unfeeling." Her voice quavered again and Draco wasn't sure if was because of anger or pain, "they were right about you. This is all a game." Her voice trailed off and she looked away from him.  
  
Draco stepped to her silently, she was distractedly wiping at her eyes and didn't notice him and until he ran his hand through the brown curls that were lining her face. She started back, surprised, but Draco had anticipated that. His arm had already come to rest around her waist, holding her in place. Hermione didn't even struggle, she had learned that it was an effort in futility; he was much stronger than her. She gazed at him now with large eyes, afraid of what he would do.   
  
Draco tilted his head down and lightly kissed her forehead.   
  
"I don't know what this is, but it has never been a game." He whispered softly into her hair before pulling her completely against him.   
  
_________________________________________________  
***There will be another chapter....so please Read & Review!!! 


	17. The Headmaster Visits

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! I think that I got more for the last chapter than for any of my others. :) Sorry that this took me a little longer to post than normal, but what with the holidays...And the next chapter might take a little longer as well for that very reason.  
________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
  
As it always seemed to do so when Draco was involved, Hermione found that time seemed to have quite suddenly stopped, as she stood wrapped up in him. Her head rested against his chest and she found that a distant part of her mind was aimlessly counting his heartbeats. His chest rose and fell as he breathed but Hermione could have sworn that they existed together like this only in a single second of time. Draco's hand was entwined in her hair. She became aware of him gently tugging curl after curl as his fingers tried bury themselves deeper in the coiled mass that shrouded her head. He pulled her closer to him as if trying to take in as much of her as possible, as if he didn't intend on letting her go. Hermione was suddenly afraid, illogically afraid, uncontrollably afraid. She struggled out of Draco's arms and sprinted past him. He reached out to her but he had been taken by surprise and he didn't react in time. She was already out the door and running towards the steps.  
  
"Hermione" he called, but she didn't stop.  
  
  
  
She didn't stop until reached the great hall. Lunch was about to be served. Her lungs ached and her feet were sore, Hermione doubted that she had ever run so much in her life. Down stairs, up stairs, through long corridors, dodging happily oblivious students.   
  
Hermione walked into the hall and headed towards the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry were already there. She looked at the empty place that rested by them longingly before turning to sit by herself at the end of the table. Hermione tried not to notice as Seamus settled himself in what used to be her seat. And not for the last time, Hermione found herself painfully replaying it all.   
  
That had been a wretched day. As if Draco's cruel words hadn't been enough, Ron's accusing face, and Harry's look of betrayal had been the icing on the cake. There had been disbelief of course. Her friends had both decided that there was no possible way that what Malfoy had insinuated could be true. They followed her back to the common room. The confrontation there had been remarkably unpleasant. She couldn't bring herself to lie to them. They were more important to her than just about anything else in the entire world. Hermione might omit things and gloss over small details, but she would never lie. Not that Harry and Ron had appreciated her honesty. In their minds she had committed a cardinal sin. And now she was doing penance, waiting for their forgiveness.   
  
Hermione dejectedly buttered a piece of bread and glared crossly down at her plate. She knew what they were waiting for, Harry and Ron, they wanted her to tell them that she hated him. That Draco was nothing to her and that Ron was right, she must have been out of her mind. But Hermione wouldn't. She wouldn't tell them that she hated Draco simply because she didn't. In fact, Hermione was beginning to think that she might be feeling the opposite. Not to say that she loved Draco, he was too much of a prat for that. But Hermione was beginning to accept the fact that she did care for him, even when he was being his usual, hateful self. And that is what scared her more than anything else.  
  
"Hermione?"   
  
The voice cut through her reverie and Hermione looked up. Harry was sitting down next to her and Ron had just settled himself across the table from her. Her immediate response was a rush of relief and a glowing sense of delight. But it only took one hard look at Ron's face for all of his cruel words to erase any smile that might have been struggling onto her face. Hermione frowned darkly.  
  
"Oh hullo Ron, thought of something even nastier to call me? Want to give it a try? See if you can make me cry?" She snapped at Ron remembering the colorful language that he used the other day concerning her.  
  
"Hermione," Harry interceded, "We're just worried about you. You know that. Ron and I just have a hard time understanding how you could ignore all the things that he's done. I mean he's always been horrible to all of us."  
  
"Harry, I know that, I do. It isn't as though I've forgotten," Hermione's voice grew quiet, "the past just doesn't seem to matter that much to me now."  
  
"You like him? Really? It's Malfoy, I didn't even think his mother liked him." Harry looked perplexed.  
  
"I don't know Harry. I know that it's not the answer you want, but I simply don't know."   
  
Ron coughed lightly but Hermione thought that it might have been covering a snicker. She glared at him coldly and he reddened.  
  
"And what about you Ron? What do you have to say?" She asked him sharply.  
  
Ron muttered something unintelligible and looked away from her. There was an awkward silence as Hermione tried to piece together what Ron had said. There was a loud sigh and Ginny sat down next to her brother. She had just come in for lunch and still had her school bag on her shoulder.  
  
"Here Hermione, let me, I speak Weasley." Ginny surveyed her brother for a moment before turning back to Hermione. "My extremely articulate brother is trying to apologize for calling you horrible names the other day. Anything else Ron?"  
  
Ron glared at his sister but Hermione couldn't help but notice that the tips of his ears were turning pink. Next to her, Hermione could tell that Harry was trying not to laugh.  
  
"Really Ron?" Hermione asked, "are you really sorry?"  
  
Again Ron mumbled something that left both Hermione and Harry puzzled. Ginny cleared her voice and began translating.  
  
"Ron says that you should be sorry too. Taking up with that prat Malfoy. And he also wants you to know that back at the Burrow he sleeps with an enchanted night-lig..."   
  
"That's enough Gin, blimey, I don't go telling people about your collection of 'Teen Wizard Dolls'". Ron cut in.  
  
Ginny flushed and Hermione and Harry broke into laughter. And quite suddenly, everything was back to the way it should be. A silent agreement to leave things unspoken had occurred between the three of them and Hermione found herself very happy to have it so. They spent the rest of their meal discussing the magical properties of the modern magical night-light. Hermione was even bold enough to ask Ron where one might purchase such a thing.   
  
Lunch seemed to end earlier than Hermione would have liked. They started back to class but Hermione couldn't help but feel that she had left something unfinished. She followed Harry and Ron to their next class but she couldn't drown out the nagging feeling. The worst thing about it was that she knew exactly what was nibbling on the back her mind: Draco and the library. She should still be angry with him, she should still be furious over what he had told Harry and Ron, but she wasn't. Even though he hadn't apologized to her, she had already forgiven him. Hermione found that she had forgiven him the moment that he touched her cheek, the moment that she really looked at him.   
  
Hermione stopped, Ron and Harry didn't notice, they were energetically discussing Quidditch. There was no reason to think that he would still be there, but Hermione couldn't hush the irrational side of her mind that insisted that Draco would still be in the library. She had already turned around and was heading towards the nearest staircase before her mind was officially decided. Sprinting back through the halls, she tried not to think about what she was doing. Hermione tried not to let herself think of him. Hermione knew that she would lose her nerve if she let him occupy her mind. But it was extremely hard to not think of Draco especially when she was going to him. She kept seeing him in her mind all of his various forms', which never failed to bewilder her. Draco hurt and angry, lashing out at her or even more confusing, the Draco that seemed to care. With her friendship with Harry and Ron seemingly repaired, she found that there was little left to distract her. Hermione felt very faint, part of her longed to just turn back and find Harry and Ron, to go to her table in class and finally erase Draco from her mind. But Hermione knew quite abruptly that she enjoyed having him in her life and she wouldn't be the same without him.   
  
It seemed as though she reached their room faster now than when she had escaped from it earlier. She threw open the door and looked around, but it was empty. Hermione pulled the door shut behind and stared dejectedly around herself. He wasn't here. She sighed gloomily, what had she expected anyway?   
  
Hermione had just come to the decision to go to class and apologize to Professor Sprout for being late when the door opened. Draco stepped in reading from a large book. He looked up in surprise at her. His expression immediately turned sour.  
  
"You came back Granger?" He drawled nastily, "what Potter and Weasley..."  
  
But before he could continue, before he could think up some insult, before she gave Professor Sprout another thought, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Draco was so startled that the book fell from his hands. He was only momentarily stunned, however, and before she could lose her nerve and pull back he wrapped one arm around her while the other felt for the door behind him and he pulled it shut. After a moment he broke the kiss and looked at her, they were so close that she could still feel his breath upon her cheek as he breathed irregularly.   
  
"You came back," he said again except this time there was no hint of malice and his voice even held a hint of awe.  
  
"I, well, I mean we, well I wanted to work on some of the charts." Hermione managed to stutter as a bright blush snuck up her cheeks.  
  
Draco, who had certainly noticed the rosy tint that Hermione's face had taken grinned slyly, "you wanted to work on Arithmancy?"  
  
He leaned towards her and let his lips brush her ear. Hermione felt suddenly lightheaded and gripped Draco's arm for support. He laughed lightly and kissed her again. Hermione sighed happily when his lips touched hers. They were caught up in a sudden wave of feeling and emotion, so caught up that they didn't hear the door open behind them, or realize that they were no longer alone in the room until a sound like someone shuffling old, dried papers together made them spring apart.  
  
"He...Headmaster." Draco gasped weakly.  
  
"My apologies for interrupting but I seem to have a bit of a cold." Dumbledore said smiling as he coughed again.   
  
Draco turned to Hermione but she was standing as if petrified, her hand clapped over her mouth and her face ashen white.   
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Draco deftly stepped in front of Hermione, "It's wasn't Hermione's fault, I kissed her."  
  
"I may be past my youth Mister Malfoy, but I'm certainly not that old. You both looked equally invested just a moment ago."   
  
Hermione made a strangled whimpering sound. She found that she was completely unable to move or talk. She had just been caught doing something illicit by a faculty member, and not just anyone, the Headmaster.  
  
"Now, now Ms. Granger," Dumbledore stepped around Draco and gently took Hermione's arm and led her to a chair. "Try not to look too stricken. Professor Vector might not think her two best students capable of any escapades but I am well aware that the students...well the students will be students."  
  
Draco starred at the Headmaster hard and then looked at Hermione. She was still in a state of terrified shock but she understood what Draco's eyes were asking and she nodded her head, "Yes, Professor Dumbledore has officially gone crazy."  
  
"The reason that I came here today was because I bumped into Professor Vector earlier today after lunch and she mentioned the wonderful amount of work that the two of you have done. I decided to come and see for myself."   
  
Hermione tried to swallow but found that her throat had completely closed up. Her hands were clenched together so tightly that her fingers began to turn white and if Draco hadn't noticed and pulled them apart when the Headmaster had his back to them, her fingernails would probably have pierced her skin.   
  
The headmaster was busy shuffling through the stacks of notes and translated pieces of text, an amused smile still on his face. "Fascinating," he whispered to himself, deeply lost in thought.  
  
"Professor?" Hermione was finally able to whisper.  
  
"This might prove even more useful than I had previously thought," The Headmaster mused more to himself than to either of them.  
  
Hermione looked at Draco and their eyes met again. She shrugged. Professor Dumbledore continued to look through their work for several minutes without saying anything. He seemed particularly interested in the old journals. Every once in a while he would mutter something under his breath as he flipped through the ancient pages. He finally put down their translation key which he had been pouring over and turned to them.  
  
"You have both done an excellent job. I am very pleased as is Professor Vector, but your work isn't over yet." The Headmaster pulled something out of a pocket in his deep purple robe. He glanced down at the strange circular piece of metal that hung from a chain, swirling colors spun quickly around in circles inside of small stone set on one side. "Ahh, is it four o'clock already? Well I must bid the two of you a good afternoon." And with that the Headmaster smiled at both of them and then left the room.  
  
For what seemed like the first time since the Headmaster had entered the room, Hermione let out a long, ragged breath and sunk deep into her chair. She closed her eyes and wished very, very hard that the preceding events hadn't actually happened, that she was just going crazy. That maybe she had eaten something funny at lunch, not that House Elves ever cooked anything that was 'funny'. She opened her eyes again; Draco was sitting across the table from her, watching, a worried expression on his face.   
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered finally.  
  
"Well it's not that bad, he didn't seem upset, didn't take any house points. We didn't even get a detention. You should see how badly McGonagall reacts. Snape can be pretty brutal about it as well. Not that I know from experience of course." Draco added quickly as Hermione shot him a withering glare.  
  
"Not that bad? Not that bad! Are you insane?" Hermione stood up abruptly and started pacing the room. "We were caught by the Headmaster. The Headmaster!" Hermione sat down again on a bench by the window.  
  
Draco immediately joined her there, an apprehensive look still in his eyes. "It'll be all right, I promise Hermione." She looked up at him. "He already knew about us."  
  
"What do you mean; he already knew?" Hermione asked, a dangerous note in her voice.  
  
"I don't know how he knew, but he did. I swear that old coot has spies." Draco added vehemently.   
  
"Don't talk about him like that!" Hermione said with disapproval, "he's the Headmaster! Not to mention an awfully powerful wizard."  
  
Draco looked away from her and stared out the window. Hermione glanced at it as well. The pane was still covered with a thick layer of frost but the warmth of the sun had started to melt away the ice. Through it Hermione thought that she could see the forest. It was covered with a thick mantle of snow. Through her embarrassment, Hermione felt a bothersome sensation. There was something that she just wasn't thinking about. Something important. Hermione glared hard at the window trying to think of what it could be.  
  
"What was he talking about?" She asked Draco finally.  
  
"What? What was who talking about?"   
  
"Professor Dumbledore, what was he talking about? Why does he think our work will be helpful?" Hermione looked at the table strewn with charts and books.  
  
"I don't know," Draco seemed to be fighting back a yawn; the brush with authority was obviously not weighing on his mind. "Maybe he can use information on flobberworm reproduction and the number sphere. Or perhaps that half-giant friend of yours could use it. He seems to like those slimy little slugs."  
  
"This is serious Draco." Hermione told him. She stood up and walked to the table, she lifted one of the old journals and studied the cover. "These are important, they must be." Draco rolled his eyes, but Hermione was nonplussed. "We haven't gone through many of them, you've only translated a few pages of this book. Who knows what is in here."  
  
Draco sighed, "You're going to want to stay here all night, aren't you?"   
  
Hermione nodded without looking up. She sat down at the table, her hands busily flipping through the book.   
  
"Fine, I'm going to go get some provisions from the kitchen then."   
  
Hermione's eyes barely even left the page as Draco exited the room. She decided that the first thing to do would be to read what Draco had already translated, he might have missed something, some hint of what they were really all about. So far the book seemed to contain nothing but personal thoughts and dictations. She began to read Draco's notes. He had several pages done but as she continued reading, Hermione discovered that one page seemed to be missing. She sighed and started to look through the piles of paper that littered the desk. Hermione was just beginning to feel very frustrated when she noticed a telltale piece of parchment under the table. She dropped to her knees and picked it up. The same neat print in a matching color stared back up at her. Hermione stood up triumphantly and accidentally knocked one of the journals off the edge of the table.   
  
It landed near the fireplace and fell open. Hermione leaned down to pick it up. The same lines of numbers were strewn across its pages, but there was something else as well. As she lifted the book the reflected firelight seemed to suddenly shift and Hermione noticed for the first time a small ink picture in the bottom corner. She sat back at the table and searched out the small magnifying glass that they had been using to aid them in deciphering the tiny script. Hermione leaned towards the book and examined the little drawing carefully; it seemed to be an emblem of some sort. It was old and smudged, but she could make out what appeared to be a seated dragon with its wings spread. Hermione's forehead crinkled and she frowned in thought. This picture was familiar, she could swear that she had seen it somewhere.   
  
Hermione took out a piece of parchment and quickly copied the picture as best she could. She stayed only long enough to mark the page in the book before she left their room and began searching through the stacks. There wasn't anything in Ancient Arithmancists, A Magical Past, or A Wizard's Book of Iconography. After a while Hermione sat down at one of the tables and stared blankly at the wall trying to will the knowledge of why a tiny dragon was familiar to her back into her head. As she sat thinking, a group of Hufflepuff seventh years walked past her table.  
  
"Yeah, Mum's not too keen on my becoming an auror, but what with Ced dying last year, I think that it's only proper." A sandy-haired boy was saying.  
  
"Oooh, but isn't it awfully dangerous?" One of the others asked breathlessly as they turned a corner and disappeared from sight.  
  
The voices faded completely a moment more and Hermione was left sitting by herself. A sudden gleam seemed to come into her eyes and she stood up quickly and rushed off down a corresponding path. It only took her a minute to find the appropriate shelf; after all, Hermione did know the library by heart. Another second of near frantic searching as she studied book titles, and then she had it. Magical Law Enforcement: Past, Present, & Future. She walked back to their room deeply involved in the book. She sat back down in her chair and didn't even notice that she had left the door open. Draco appeared in it an instant later, his book bag full from the kitchens. He glanced at the open door wonderingly before he came in.  
  
"Hermione?" He asked as he came to the table.  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement, "Draco, I found something."  
  
  
____________________________________________________  
**There will be another chapter! Please Read & Review! 


	18. Knights of Aequitus

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Okay... I know that this took me a long time to post, but I did warn you all that I was away for the holidays and simply wouldn't have time to write. But now I'm home again, back to my blissfully uneventful life where I have oodles of free time. Anyhoo.... Thanks to everyone that has reviewed me, I have been completely overwhelmed by the amount of reviews that I've gotten for this story. And it isn't even done yet, can you believe it? Neither can I...it just keeps going. Not that that is a bad thing....  
  
Anyhoo....... Enough from me.  
____________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"He's a what?" Draco asked again, cutting Hermione off in mid sentence.   
  
Hermione took a deep breath and repeated, "I think he's a Knight of Aequitus."  
  
She smiled a brilliant smile at him as if this should all be making sense to him since it obviously was to her. Draco could feel himself begin to scowl; it wasn't often that he didn't know something. Hermione seemed to notice his expression and suppressed her liquid delight. The tone she took now was a favorite of hers, the teacher. Oddly enough though, Draco discovered that it didn't bother him nearly as much as it did once.   
  
"There really isn't much known about them to tell you the truth." Hermione began her lecture slowly. "I know that they were a very secret order of wizards that began either in the late 14th century or very early in the 15th century. It was during the early 15th century when several very powerful wizards took over what was then the early beginnings of the Ministry of Magic."   
  
"What? I never heard about that. Old Binns keeps going on and on about goblin revolutions and ogre atrocities, but he never mentions the interesting stuff." Draco scowled once more, putout that he had never been informed of this interesting little tidbit.  
  
"Well," Hermione's voice caught his attention again, "You aren't very likely to hear about it our History of Magic class. The ministry likes to keep its sordid past secret. It's just like how they treat house-elves."  
  
Draco groaned, "Hermione."  
  
"I mean, they act like if you just ignore the presence of house-elves it makes it all right to keep them as slaves."  
  
"Hermione"  
  
"Just another little piece of their dirty laundry that those ministry officials don't want aired. Not that they would know anything about dirty laundry."   
  
"Hermione!" Draco snapped in exasperation.   
  
"What?" Hermione flushed when she realized how off-topic she had gotten. "Well, as I was saying, the highest ministry seats came into possession of some really awful people. Terrible, dark wizards."   
  
"Really? I'm surprised that Lucius never bragged about them to me. He was always pointing out successful dark wizards, I think he wanted me to use them as a role-model." Draco propped his feet on the table and gave Hermione a wolfish grin which she ignored.  
  
Pretending that she hadn't heard a single word that he had said she continued. "The Knights of Aequitus did their best to thwart the Ministry while it was under the control of these wizards. Most of the information that I've been able to dig up on them, and it hasn't been much, says that they were akin to the aurors that we have today, but I think that there might have been more to it all then that. I really should have recognized the symbol right away."  
  
"And you managed to figure this all out because of a little picture that you can hardly see that the old coot probably doodled one evening over his nightly cup of absinthe?" Draco drawled in his most superior voice, it wasn't that he wanted to make her angry; Draco just enjoyed bantering with her sometimes.   
  
Hermione wasn't going to rise to his bait though. "No, of course not, the picture was just the key. The rest I knew from class."  
  
"Class? But you just said that Binns wouldn't teach anything about it."   
  
"Well," Hermione looked away nervously, "I didn't say that it was a class here at Hogwarts."  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't realize that you had time for two different schools."   
  
"I have a lot of free time over the summer." She muttered not looking at him, a sure sign that she really didn't want to talk about it. Which, of course, only made Draco even more interested.  
  
"Only you would be willing to attend school over the summer. You really must have no life outside of school." Draco knew that he had hit a nerve as she flushed deeply.  
  
"It was only a class, and it wasn't even a very long class. I didn't even have to leave home, everything was sent to me through the owl post." Hermione retorted angrily.  
  
"And just what was this class on, other than old dead aurors who obviously weren't that good at their jobs or the dark powers that be never would have managed to win." Draco really couldn't help himself, fighting with her was such an accustomed pastime.  
  
"It was a class on the blunders of the Ministry." Draco looked at her in surprise. "I become interested in their other past mistakes after the way they handled Cedric Diggory's murder last year."  
  
"I can't believe that the Ministry would accredit a school that had a class like that."   
  
"They aren't exactly an official school." Hermione said softly.  
  
It all came together for Draco quite suddenly. "You're talking about St. Stephen's aren't you? That hole in the wall place down near Bristow? Lucius told me about that school. Run by some crazy loon even more far gone than the Headmaster."   
  
Hermione visibly bristled. She seemed almost incapable of forming words for a moment. "Headmaster Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived and Professor Greyson isn't crazy, just eccentric, he and the class came highly recommended."  
  
Draco could tell that he was beginning to push her a bit too far, but he was unable to stop his mouth. "Oh yeah, recommended by who? An escapee from St. Mungo's?"   
  
"That is absolutely none of your business and if you ask me about it again I swear I'll use a full body-bind and leave you for the house elves to find." She said this very slowly through pursed lips and Draco could almost hear her counting under her breath between each word.  
  
"All right, all right, never mind." Draco held up his hands in a sign of peace. "But before we're through, let me get this straight, you took a class that the Ministry would certainly frown upon, taught by a man who has been a wanted criminal by the ministry off and on throughout the years because of some derogatory literature that he released about Fudge a few years ago, at a place that isn't even considered an actual school?" Hermione glared at him darkly and Draco knew that she was trying to decide if she could make it to her wand faster than he could duck.   
  
"Granger," he said grinning, a note of approval in his voice, "I never knew that you were such a rebel."  
  
"Oh shut up Malfoy." Hermione replied and Draco was relieved to see her smile.  
  
  
  
Draco sauntered leisurely down the hall the next morning. It had been a very long night in the library, and they still had a great deal to do. No matter how much time they spent there, it never seemed to be quite long enough to get things done. But even considering the dismal amount of sleep that he obtained the night before after parting ways with Hermione outside the library, his mood was remarkably light. He was on his way to the library now. The only class that he had with Hermione had been Potions earlier in the day where he had spent most of the class keeping one eye on her and the other on Professor Snape. It was never a wise thing to ignore Professor Snape; he always seemed to know when a student was no longer paying attention.   
  
The halls were nearly deserted since everyone seemed to be on their way to the dining hall for supper. A sudden movement caught his eye and Hermione appeared at a landing on the stairs to Draco's right. She caught his eyes and smiled. Draco felt a strange tug and he almost took a step forward to go to her but then stopped and glanced around. "But what if..."   
  
"Don't worry, no one will see that you're with a mudblood." Hermione said coolly as she walked down the steps towards him.  
  
Draco stiffened when she said the word mudblood. It had been a long time since he had used that word and now that he was hearing it from a mouth other than his it sounded harsh and cruel. "That's not what I was going to say." He snapped. But even he couldn't believe his lie, and he very much wanted to. Draco looked away from her feeling guilty, which is odd, because he had never felt guilty before in his life until this year, until her.  
  
"It's all right," she said softly, "I don't mind." But this too was a lie that neither of them could ignore.  
  
They silently continued toward the library together. It appeared that she was right, no one would see. This part of the school was almost unnaturally empty.  
  
"Here," Hermione rummaged through her bag and pulled out a very thick scroll. "I thought you might like to borrow it."  
  
Draco took the scroll from her, it was very heavy and tied with a thick leather band, printed across along one edge it said: A Ministry's Misfortune by Tobias Greyson. "What? St. Stephen's couldn't even afford real books?" He teased gently.  
  
She smiled and Draco found himself stopping in the middle of the hall to look at her. Hermione's smiled deepened and Draco reached to tuck a stray curl back behind her ear.  
  
"Draco!" an ear splitting cry of exuberant glee filled the empty hall and Pansy Parkinson, who had just exited a near-by class room behind Draco, suddenly threw her arms around his neck with such force that he stumbled forwards and knocked Hermione to the ground where her bag split and sent her books and quills tumbling across the floor.  
  
"Draco," Pansy purred from behind him, her arms still around his neck, "Where have you been hiding lately? I've missed you." Her tone left little to the imagination and Hermione's eyes darkened dangerously.   
  
She came around him to the front, making sure to press as much of her physique against him as possible. When Pansy noticed Hermione, who was trying to gather up her quills, she smiled nastily.   
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Gryffindor Tower's buck-toothed little mudblood. Tell me Granger, where's Potter and Weasley? Don't tell me they left you all by yourself? It's dangerous when you're a muggle-born out all alone." Pansy stepped forward and placed her foot squarely on top of Hermione's wand, which had skittered across the floor during her spill.   
  
"Am I supposed to scared Pansy?" Hermione asked bravely.   
  
"Leave her alone Pansy," Draco said quietly, still surprised even after he had said the words.  
  
Pansy ignored him and pulled her own wand from out of her pocket. Hermione stood up cautiously and glanced down the hall obviously hoping for a Professor to come along.   
  
"Leave her alone Pansy," Draco said again, his voice a bit more forceful.  
  
"Oh come on Draco, just a little fun, I bet I can make her teeth go back to the way they were." Pansy grinned viciously.   
  
"I said," Draco grabbed her arm and yanked her around hard, "to leave her alone." His voice was low and dangerous.   
  
Pansy jerked her arm away from him. "You're no fun Draco, she's just a stupid little mudblood, is it really worth all this?"   
  
Draco glared at her and felt his hands clench. As much as he detested Pansy, he had never wanted to hurt her, not until now anyway. Hermione seemed to become aware of this and lunged forward to grab his wrist.  
  
"Don't Draco."   
  
Their eyes met and Draco could see her fear that he would do something rash and get into trouble. He could also see her gratitude for standing up for her. A few feet away, a shocked Pansy stared with her mouth agape.  
  
"Oh...oh I see. So that's why. That mudblood is the reason." Draco spun to glare at her but Pansy only smiled. She turned and walked away from them laughing softly. "Of all things," she said as she went down the stairs.  
  
"Draco?" Hermione whispered softly.  
  
"What?" he said angrily, his voice sharper than he had meant.   
  
Hermione let go of his arm and stepped away from him a guarded look in her eyes. She kneeled down and started to put her things back into her bag. Draco stood behind her, not knowing what to do. He glanced down the hall and saw students start to trickle out of the same classroom that Pansy had come from. Draco realized that it must be her Charms study group that she had mentioned once. Draco stepped back from Hermione. She paused for a moment and turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. It was a look that he couldn't read. Draco hated that, he could know what almost everyone else was thinking, but Hermione, she could be a puzzle.   
  
"I'll see you later, in the library." He muttered as a few more people glanced at him curiously as they passed.   
  
Hermione nodded silently and Draco turned and walked away. He passed the doors of the library swiftly, knowing that if he paused there he would most certainly go inside and wait for her. And he didn't want to wait for her, he was a Malfoy, he shouldn't ever have to wait. But Draco knew with a disquieting certainty that he would wait forever if she asked him too. Although he didn't quite know what that meant. Draco continued down the hall without looking back. An overwhelming thought was clouding his mind, who would Pansy tell? Draco was a fairly popular Slytherin, would she dare spread rumors about him? He knew that she would, Pansy was remarkably malicious. What would the other Slytherins say when they found out that he had taken up with Hermione? With a muggle-born? Had he taken up with her? Draco wasn't really sure. He knew that he had absolutely no interest in Pansy, and once not so long ago, her voluptuous curves had been enough to keep him awake at night, but what did that mean?  
  
Draco walked down a flight of stairs and headed towards the dungeons, towards the Slytherin common room. He knew that there really was no use in denying the attraction that he had for the Gryffindor girl. Before he might have been able to dismiss his feelings as simply someway to strike out against Potter, because he truly despised Potter and his do-right attitude, or perhaps even a way to infuriate Lucius. But now, as he stepped past the portrait that blocked the door to the Slytherin common room, Draco knew that it was far more than that. Even now as the portrait swung shut behind him, he had to fight the urge to turn back and go to the library, to her. Draco knew that it was ridiculous, there wasn't anyway that his feelings for her could work out. He was familiar enough with those tragic wizarding romances that his mother read sometimes to be able to see that anything with Hermione would be fruitless. But why couldn't he get her out of his head?   
  
Draco sat on the edge of his bed and glared at the floor. What havoc was Pansy causing? What would she say to the others? Would she ruin him here at Hogwarts? Draco stood up and started to stalk back and forth across the room.  
  
"It's not like I even care for her or anything, she's just a girl, and a muggle born at that." But Draco knew he was lying. He had been almost ready to kill Pansy for threatening Hermione. Although Draco had little doubt that Hermione could hold her own against Pansy. Hermione could quite possibly hold her own against him, she was a very powerful witch. He considered her an equal, a privilege that he had never bestowed on anyone before that he could remember. She clouded his thoughts constantly and Draco found himself trying to live up to a standard of ideals that he had never known before. A standard where one wasn't cruel. A standard that had him thinking about what his actions might lead to. Draco lay back on his bed and starred up at the canopy lost in thought.  
  
  
  
"Glad to see that you've finally decided to show up and help"   
  
Draco pulled the door closed behind him and ignored her. She had turned around to glare at him; she was sitting in that chair that she seemed to like so much.   
  
"I had things to do Granger." Draco replied coldly as he came around to the other side of the table and sat down.  
  
He noticed that she stiffened slightly but she said nothing more to him. Draco pulled a near-by book over and tried to bury himself in it. He never seemed to say the right thing around her.   
  
Draco focused himself entirely on the work at hand. If he kept his eyes on the curling scroll in front of him then they wouldn't linger on her. The time went by slowly at first, their mutual silence seemed terribly loud in the room, but the longer they worked, the easier things became. The less forced their silence seemed.   
  
"I think you're right." Draco said suddenly. He had made it almost halfway through his book before he found something of interest.  
  
Hermione leaned forward with interest and Draco set the book down in front of him and began to read.  
  
"The dark powers have seized control of the Ministry despite our valiant efforts. I fear for my displaced comrades, I can only pray that those closest to the fray managed to escape the purge. Those Ministry lambs lined up for the slaughter willingly. But as for the rest? Am I truly left alone now? I can only hope that my research will not be for naught."  
  
Draco stopped reading and looked to Hermione. "What does he mean by 'his research'?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione mused softly. "But it might have something to do with this." She held out the text that she had been working on. "I didn't understand what was written there at first, lists of things that I didn't recognize, but after a while I started to recognize some things. Like here, wormswood and night-thistle. And over here, the translation isn't exact but I'm almost certain that this is Latin for mugwort."  
  
"Potion ingredients?" Draco asked.  
  
"I think this is a spell book," Hermione said softly. "And probably a lot of the other ones are too."   
  
Draco took the book from her and started reading it to himself. "None of these are spells that I recognize, none of these potions. There are some components that we use today, but what about the rest of it?"  
  
Hermione sighed and leaned back in her chair, "I just don't understand what he's doing with all these strange spells. Half of the combinations wouldn't even work. And over there he has the same list of ingredients written over and over again with a few different additions. What was he doing?" She muttered in puzzlement.   
  
Draco continued to examine the book while Hermione bit her lip in concentration. He couldn't help but feel that this was something important, something special, but what? "I think," Draco said slowly, an idea forming in his head, "that he was researching his own spells, coming up with new ones. He mentioned research in the one journal; maybe that was his position in the Knights. I mean really, does some old tinkering Arithmancist strike you as someone that you might find dueling with a dark wizard?"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and she sat forward again excitedly. "Do you think that this was what the Headmaster was talking about? Did he know that O'Leary had written his own spell books?" Hermione wondered aloud.  
  
Draco frowned at the book, "I doubt that he would give something that was important to a couple of students."  
  
"Well Harry seems to think that the Headmaster likes to see what we're capable of, that he likes to test us." Hermione replied proudly, whether it was pride for Potter or for herself Draco wasn't sure.  
  
"Well if that's true then that old coot is even more crazy than I thought."   
  
"Draco", she admonished quickly, but her tone was light.   
  
Draco grinned with satisfaction, pleased that he had figured something out before she had. Not that it was a competition, but Draco was use to being smarter than all of his friends. Of course, a pickled newt is smarter than Crabbe or Goyle. Pansy on the other hand liked to come off as dim-witted but she had a nasty streak with a mind of it own, and what a mind it was. Draco grimaced slightly as he thought of her. Was she at the Great Hall now telling everyone about Draco and Hermione? Not that there really wasn't anything to tell, it wasn't as if she had caught them kissing in that hallway. But Draco felt that this was just as bad, worse even. If he had been caught kissing her, he could have just passed it off later as a ploy to get to Potter. However, Pansy hadn't caught him in with Hermione in a comprising position, she had simply caught them alone in the hallway. And Draco had defended Hermione with such vehemence that Pansy had certainly never seen anything like it. And Draco wasn't sure if he had ever felt so strongly about anything before, or so out of control.   
  
"Draco?"   
  
He looked up and met her worried eyes. "What?" He asked sharply, feeling as if she had caught him doing something wrong.  
  
"N..nothing, you just looked," she paused and seemed to think over her words, "far away. You just seemed very far away for a moment."   
  
Draco felt himself smile without knowing why. He leaned across the table and took her hand in his. It was much smaller but seemed to match his hand well. He cupped it in the palm of his and with his other hand began to trace the delicate lines that mapped it. She stiffened slightly and Draco noticed that she was blushing furiously. Hermione took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Draco grinned, "This my dear," he began in a light airy voice that sounded remarkably like Professor Trelawney, "is your life line. Oh my, you're going to lead a very long life, what a shame. Although I do foresee trouble in your path. Oh and what's this? Why, it's a handsome stranger, blonde and roguish, my what a man." Hermione started giggling but kept her hand still so that he could continue. "And here is your heart line, a guide into the inner workings of your heart." His voice trailed off suddenly and Hermione pulled her hand back.  
  
She looked torn between amusement and anxiety. There were several moments of silence were Draco was at a complete loss of words. He knew better than to open his mouth for fear of saying something immensely stupid.   
  
Hermione stood up suddenly. "I...had better go. I promised Harry Ron that I'd look over their Transfiguration homework."   
  
Hermione stupid and gathered her things. Draco stood as well and packed his bag. He followed her out the door and they left the library together, not saying anything, but finding the quiet to be comfortable. At the library doors she stopped and looked back him, "Draco". She started but was cut off.  
  
"Hermione!"   
  
Draco and Hermione both looked to see Harry and Ron still dressed in their practice robes coming towards them. They stopped a few feet away and eyed Draco in distaste.   
  
"Malfoy," Potter said coldly.  
  
Draco was aware of Hermione going rigid. She began making little worried sounds like she was trying to think of something to say to stop any escalating situation. She glanced from him to her friends and then back again, pleading in her eyes.  
  
"Potter, Weasley," Draco said amicably and then nodded at Hermione before he turned and walked away leaving a surprised Potter and Weasley and one very relived Hermione.  
  
  
____________________________________________________  
**Anyhoo.... As you can see.... I'm not done yet. So please read and review and I'll get another chapter out as soon as possible. BTW.... Those things don't depend on each other, if I don't get any reviews, I still post a chapter in a week or so. I'm not one of those people that demand 15 reviews or they won't post. I don't know why I'm ranting about this.... :) 


	19. Back to the Hospital Wing

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Hiya! Me again... I'm so tickled that people are still reading this fic. Like I've said on more than one occasion, I never thought that it would be this long. But I think that I am nearing the end, we're still a few chapters away of course...  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"Ooh Harry, look out!" Hermione called desperately even though her voice was lost amongst the roaring of the crowd.  
  
Harry's broomstick dipped suddenly beneath one of the Ravenclaw beaters and he pulled up in time to dodge the bludger that had been pursuing him.  
  
Hermione sighed in relief and sat back down next to Ginny. She only had a moment to catch her breath though before a quick pass by one of the Ravenclaw chasers had her and Ginny on their feet again screaming at Ron. "Look out, he's right there!" The cries of warning from the Gryffindors weren't really necessary as Ron easily caught the ball and then sent it spinning away looking bored.  
  
"This is turning into a really long game." Ginny commented as they sat back down again.  
  
"I think it's one of the longest Hogwarts has had in almost thirty years." Hermione replied glancing at her watch. The sun was beginning to set behind the dark trees. The game itself had started early that morning.  
  
"Harry could have won this easily, we've already seen the Snitch twice, but he doesn't want to show up Cho." Ginny muttered darkly.  
  
Hermione glanced cautiously at her friend, "Gin, I don't think that Harry would lose on purpose." In fact, Hermione was quite certain that Harry would never lose intentionally, even if it were against Cho. "He's probably just giving her a sporting chance." She offered glibly.  
  
Ginny looked unimpressed and glared hard at the Ravenclaw Seeker as she passed by. "Don't know what he sees in her anyway." She muttered quietly then glanced at Hermione and added "not that I care anyway."  
  
Hermione nodded non-committaly. Ginny had long claimed to have left her Harry idolatry behind her, but Hermione often wondered how far back she had left it. Ginny was still obviously smitten with him and poor Harry was simply oblivious. Not that Hermione really had time to wonder about the relationships of her friends, what with school and her Arithmancy project. And, of course, there was Draco as well. A sudden close call as Fred nearly collided with a chaser sent Hermione and Ginny gasping in fear.  
  
"He's looking at you again you know." Ginny whispered as they sat back down.  
  
"What? Who is looking?" Hermione asked in confusion.  
  
"Malfoy of course. Don't tell me that you haven't noticed." Ginny looked unbelievingly at Hermione and then sighed in exasperation. "You're hopeless you know. He's over there."  
  
Hermione followed the direction that Ginny was looking and found Draco sitting in the next section over. The Slytherin boy was pointedly watching her.  
  
"What's he want?" Ginny asked in an almost awed tone.  
  
"I have no idea," Hermione replied quietly as she stared back at him. He abruptly stood up and started down the steps pausing at the bottom to give her one more demanding look. "I'll be right back Ginny."  
  
"What? But what about the game?" Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm.  
  
"I'll be right back Gin." Hermione replied firmly and tugged her arm loose.  
  
Hermione turned her back on Ginny's disapproving gaze and followed after Draco. He had doubled back under the raised seats and was casually leaning against a pole. As Hermione approached she couldn't tell if he was smiling genuinely or smirking at her. Hermione walked right up to him and waited for him to speak. Instead of talking though, Draco brushed back a lock of her hair and leaned in to kiss her.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione asked in surprise as she backed away from him. "The whole school is sitting above us, are you crazy?"  
  
There was no doubt now that Draco was smirking. "I wouldn't worry. All of your little Gryffindor pals are watching the game."  
  
"And what about your little nest of Slytherins? Where are they all slinking about?" Hermione mimicked him.  
  
Draco grinned, "Probably rooting for Ravenclaw I would think."  
  
"What do you want Draco?" Hermione sighed in irritation.  
  
"Well," Draco moved closer to her, "the passages that I translated last night didn't contain any potion recipes. Instead there were several spells, I think that they're charms but I'm not entirely sure."  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked excitedly. So far, they had only found potions in the O'Leary books. Finding out that he had been making his potions was exciting enough, but creating his very own charms?  
  
"I figured that we should go to the library and work on it." Draco finished.  
  
"Now? I can't go now. We're in the middle of a match."  
  
Draco's gray eyes darkened and he frowned at her. "You know that your blessed little Potter is going to catch the Snitch even if he is taking his time in doing so. I hardly see any point in staying to watch."  
  
"I have to stay and support Ron and Harry," Hermione replied sharply.  
  
"Not like they'd notice if you left. Probably wouldn't even care if you did either." Draco told her coldly.  
  
Hermione glared at him furiously. Their voices had been getting louder and she glanced around to make sure that they were still alone. Turning back to him she spoke quietly, "I'm going to go and finish watching the game with Ginny. I will come to the library afterwards as long as you stop saying things that make me want to hex your pompous face."  
  
Draco's glare grew fiercer, "And what should I do in the mean-time Granger?"  
  
"I don't know," Hermione turned away from him, "why don't you build a better mouse trap?"  
  
  
  
The euphoria over winning the game hadn't even begun to ebb in the Gryffindor tower when Hermione gathered up her books and headed to the library. After an hour more of play Harry had finally made the fateful dive that brought almost everyone to their feet in horror only to have him pull up at the last second, Snitch in hand. Harry had turned a brilliant scarlet when he shook hands with Cho and Ginny had been beside herself with fury, much the way that Hermione felt. Malfoy had such nerve. He honestly seemed to think that she would just drop everything when he told her too.  
  
"Hermione? Are you leaving?"  
  
She stopped with her hand on the back of the portrait hole, about to push it open. "Just for a little while, Harry." She said glancing back over her should at her crimson robed friend.  
  
"Malfoy again?" He tried to hide the disapproval in his voice.  
  
"It's not just Malfoy, the books are really vital. They're important to me." Hermione replied, fighting the urge to just dart through the portrait hole and abandon this wretched conversation.  
  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest in a typical Hermione fashion. "And is he important to you as well?"  
  
Hermione blushed and looked at the floor trying hard to find the words that could explain what exactly she felt for Draco. So much of the time she wanted to throw things at him, but then she found that all she wanted was to be near him, to talk to him. "Yes," she whispered finally, "yes I think he is."  
  
Harry started to say something, but whatever his first reaction to this news was, Hermione never found out. Fred and George Weasley appeared through the portrait laden with sweets from the kitchen. A mass of people converged on the entrance and Hermione lost sight of Harry. Deciding that now would be the best opportunity to go, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd and out into the hall.  
  
Through the arched windows that she passed, Hermione could see twinkling stars. She didn't really know the exact location of Hogwarts but Hermione knew that it had to be some place high. The stars never seemed so close to her windows at home. But here, sometimes Hermione thought that if she leaned just a little farther out, and stretched her hand just a little more, then she could pluck one right from the sky. Not that Hermione was often taken with such fanciful ideas of pulling stars out of the open sky. But it was hard not to on a night like tonight. The icy cold wind blew through the Forbidden Forest in the distance, ruffling the heads of the ancient trees. Snow lay soft on the ground and only served to reflect the stars own light back upon them. Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around her and continued to the library.  
  
There were a few students still lingering amongst the looming stacks of books and towering cases. But no one seemed particularly interested in Hermione as she made her way dutifully to the deserted back and up the small spiral staircase. In fact, as she made her way quietly down the narrow walkway that led to their room, the few remaining students had made their way to Madame Pince near the door.  
  
Hermione paused with her hand on the old copper knob and took a deep breath. The hushed voices from below faded as the great door swung shut and Hermione pulled open the door.  
  
She didn't hear the incantation as it finished, but the spell that sent her flying backwards into the railing was certainly hard to miss. Hermione lay dazed for several moments; the brilliant light that had seemed to hit her was still glinting in her eyes. She tried shaking her head to clear it but found that this only served to make her dizzy.  
  
"Hermione?" A worried voice could be heard through the searing light. "Hermione are you all right?"  
  
Hermione blinked her eyes and found that as the light faded she could make out Draco's worried face. "What did you do?"  
  
"Are you all right, can you stand? What the bloody hell are you doing opening doors like that!" Draco's face was paler than usual.  
  
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out the light that still seemed to glow around her. There was a sharp pain in her head and Hermione felt woozy. "What were you doing?" She asked him through gritted teeth.  
  
"I got tired of waiting for you so I decided to try out some of the spells that I told you about earlier." Draco was kneeling besides her helping her to stand.  
  
"So you decided to try them out on me?" She snapped and felt her forehead where a cut was sending a trickle of blood down her cheek.  
  
"Well you're being too ill-tempered to be badly hurt." Draco said as he finally helped her to stand.  
  
Hermione was only able to stand on her own for a moment before she swooned. Draco caught her and easily scooped her up into his arms.  
  
"That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital wing." Draco said firmly as he cradled her.  
  
"I don't need to go the hospital wing," Hermione said just as firmly while trying unsuccessfully to get out of his embrace.  
  
"Of course you don't, you can never walk on your own. And look, you always go around bleeding, Gryffindor tradition." Draco refused to let her go.  
  
"Oh shut up Malfoy." Hermione muttered crossly.  
  
  
  
"I think it was some type of stunning charm." Draco told her as he stared up at the ceiling.  
  
Hermione glanced over at him from where she was laying. "Well it worked very well considering that you'd never practiced it before."  
  
"I am sorry about that almost knocking you unconscious bit. But I thought that spell was only going to make light, like the lumos spell. How was I to know that it was going to do something nasty, or that you were going to open the door," Draco sat up and glanced over at her bed.  
  
Hermione pulled the blanket up a little bit higher, feeling strangely revealing in her hospital gown. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. I think that from now on though, when we test out spells, we should do it outside of the school."  
  
Draco slid off of the bed that he had perched himself on and came to her. "Really? You still want to try them even after what happened? It could get worse you know. I thought that I had a pretty accurate translation for what the intended results would be."  
  
"Well," she mused softly, "It did make light."  
  
"That's true," Draco agreed.  
  
Hermione glanced at the door of Madame Pomfrey's office. Hermione would be fine of course. They had told her that Hermione had taken a bit of a fall. They weren't sure if she had believed them or not, but the school nurse always seemed more concerned with the wounds instead of the accidents that caused them.  
  
Draco settled himself on the edge of her bed and grinned down at her. It was an expression that Hermione often found very unsettling. She tried to scoot farther back but there was no more room on the small bed.  
  
"Madame Pomfrey is going to be very angry if she finds out that you're still here." Hermione said quickly, aware of the darkness in the room and the thin hospital gown that she was wearing.  
  
"That busy-body of a nurse doesn't worry me. And anyway, it's nearly impossible to hear through those walls in her office. In my third year Crabbe and I jinxed some bedpans to follow that little idiot Gryffindor, the one with the camera, all around the room. They were clanging off walls, knocking over cabinets, and Madame Pomfrey never heard any of it. Really very funny." Draco laughed.  
  
Hermione glared at him with disapproval but she couldn't really get mad. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, especially not Draco, but there were times when she had been tempted to hex Colin herself. He was always running around, getting in the way, taking pictures of Harry. Once he even knocked a whole vial Lavender's violet ink over her Charms homework.  
  
Raising a hand, she gently touched the slight lump on her forehead. Madame Pomfrey and fixed the cut right away, and all in all, Hermione felt okay. She didn't think that it was really necessary for her to stay in the hospital wing overnight, but the nurse had insisted. The room was empty save Hermione and Draco, who was looking at her in that way that always made her knees feel weak.  
  
"Draco," Hermione began but stopped as he leaned down to kiss her. His hand gently cupped her face. It amazed her often he could be gentle. Her breathing began to quicken and Draco leaned closer to her, his other hand trailing down to find hers. His fingertips leaving a path of goose bumps on her arm before his hand closed over her own.  
  
"Get away from her!"  
  
The yell was followed almost immediately by a red-haired blur that knocked Draco to the ground. Hermione stared in horror as Ron punched Draco squarely on the chin.  
  
"Ron stop it!" She cried struggling to disentangle herself form the hospital blanket.  
  
Ron took no notice of Hermione, however, he continued to pummel Draco who seemed too stunned to really do anything about it other than struggle to get out from under the furious Weasley.  
  
"Ron!," Hermione slid from the bed and grabbed his arm before he could strike again. "Ron stop it!"  
  
"Stop?" Ron paused and looked at Hermione, confused, "but he was attacking you!"  
  
Hermione blushed crimson and noticed Harry standing by the foot of her bed, a guarded expression on his face. "No Ron, he wasn't hurting me." She managed to whisper through a mouth that had gone completely dry.  
  
"What are you saying?" Ron asked quietly, torn between looking furious and appalled.  
  
"I...I..." Hermione looked past Ron to Draco. He was watching her intently, oblivious to the blood trickling down from his lip.  
  
A light suddenly cut across the darkness of the hospital room. Madame Pomfrey stood illuminated in the door of her office. A look of abject fury on her face. "What in the world is going on here? Fighting? Fighting in not allowed in school!"  
  
Ron stepped back from Draco and Hermione noticed that he was limping.  
  
"Ms. Granger, back onto your bed. And the three of you, detention." None of the boys argued, the nurse looked like she could spit nails. "You, what's wrong with your leg?" She asked Ron.  
  
"I twisted my ankle, showing Dean how I blocked that quaffle earlier today." Ron mumbled.  
  
"Fine, in my office. You," she turned on Draco, "That's a nasty cut on your lip, over there, that room, wait for me."  
  
Draco glanced at Hermione and then entered the small room that appeared to be used mostly for storing supplies.  
  
"And Mr. Potter, of course, it wouldn't be the hospital wing without a visit from you. Well, what's wrong?" Madame Pomfrey asked sharply.  
  
"Nothing, I just helped Ron get here." Harry told her.  
  
The nurse nodded and then pointed at the door, "Out," was all she said and Harry turned and quickly left the room. The nurse glared at Hermione and then pulled the curtains closed around her bed.  
  
Hermione lay staring up at the ceiling wishing that she would never have to leave the hospital wing. What were Ron and Harry going to say to her tomorrow? And worse, what about Draco? She had seen the way that he had reacted to Pansy seeing them together in the hall, and that had been innocent. But this? It was a very long time before Hermione found herself able to sleep.  
  
  
  
___________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter, please read and review!!!! 


	20. Pansy's News

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Hi! I'm sorry that I took so long to post, I've just been swamped. I suddenly went from a part-time slacker to a full-timer with all sorts of responsibilities and it's taking me a little while to adjust. Anyhoo... I know that some of you have been worried that I'm not going to finish this fic. Let me assure you that I will... it just might take a while.  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
The last of the snow had finally melted away. The winter season was coming to an end and everyone knew that spring was beginning its tentative approach. However, winter had yet to give up it's grasp of the Hogwarts' grounds. The light that was streaming through the trees did little to warm the air. A frigid chill hung about them and yet Draco was enjoying himself.  
  
"Here, try it this way." He turned Hermione's wrist so that her wand angled to the right. "Now say it again."  
  
Hermione looked nonplussed and repeated the spell. Her voice lilted musically over the words that seemed like they should be sung instead of spoken. A green mist, more like a haze than anything else shot from the end of her wand and permeated the ground at her feet. They held their mutual breaths and watched as tiny shoots of green grass began to spring up around her boots. As they continued to watch in awe, the little sprigs of grass withered away to dull brown bits.  
  
"It's sad," Hermione spoke after a moment, "We give them a push to live but it's just too cold out. I feel like I've betrayed them somehow."  
  
Draco looked at her in amusement, "Hermione, it's just a bit of grass."  
  
Hermione glared at him halfheartedly and sat down on a large rock. Several books and scrolls of parchment were scattered around her. Draco watched as she pulled off her glove and dug through her bag looking for a quill. She groaned in frustration and began to dig even deeper.  
  
Draco felt in his robe and pulled a black quill out of one pocket. "Here," he called tossing it to her. "What are you doing anyway?"  
  
"I'm writing it down on the `useful spell' list."  
  
"Didn't seem that useful to me," Draco looked down at the ancient book in his hand and the notes that he had made himself. "All it did was make some grass grow."  
  
"Honestly," Hermione looked up at him in consternation. "If it doesn't set something on fire or go boom you think that it's useless. Really, all boys are the same, Gryffindor and Slytherin."  
  
"That's not true," Draco, countered, "I liked that one spell that you did earlier, you know, the one that almost sucked your robe right off."  
  
Hermione blushed darkly and looked away. "But really, this is a very important spell if it can make plants grow faster. Can't you just imagine what Professor Sprout could do with a spell like this?"  
  
Draco was still smiling about the memory of Hermione almost losing her robes. "I suppose so, if she could make her plants grow faster then I suppose that you wouldn't have had to spend so much time in the hospital wing our second year."  
  
Hermione looked up in surprise, "how did you know that was in the hospital wing?"  
  
"Well everyone knew. Virtually the whole school was in a panic over that whole `heir of Slytherin' thing." A nostalgic smile flitted across Draco's face.  
  
Hermione looked at him in annoyance.  
  
"Well it's always good to keep tabs on your enemies." Draco said.  
  
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a penetrating gaze.  
  
"Now don't get any ideas, it isn't as if I liked you then or anything." Draco added nervously. The way that she was staring was beginning to make him very uneasy.  
  
"Do you like me now?" Hermione was still watching him with that penetrating gaze but her voice had gotten very quiet.  
  
Draco stared at her with mouth agape and tried to think of something to say. He couldn't just come out and say that he liked her, could he? He was never entirely sure. Draco knew that he thought about her often, but was that what she was asking?  
  
"I think we should try this one next." He said standing up suddenly, a book clenched tightly in his hand.  
  
Hermione looked away from him quickly and nodded. Draco turned away from her and started to recite the spell in his head over and over again. He tried very had not to notice that the smile that Hermione had been wearing virtually all day was gone now and her eyes, that had been brilliant and open, were now guarded.  
  
Draco was inwardly kicking himself. He never knew what to say. Around most girls he was the epitome of calm and collectedness, but with Hermione he often felt that he could never get his foot of his mouth. But what did she expect, really? That he would just kneel down and confess undying love or some other such nonsense? Draco would rather kiss a blast-ended skrewt then do any of that ridiculous romantic stuff that Pansy had always wanted. And now Hermione was asking him to do the same thing. Wasn't she? Draco wasn't sure what she wanted. He grumbled lightly in frustration.  
  
Hermione sat back down and began looking through her notes. "Yes, I suppose we can try that one if you want. What does the translation say about it?"  
  
With relief Draco read from his notes, "holding green".  
  
"That's your translation?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Not very explicit is it?"  
  
"Well the ink on that page was splotchy." Draco argued in his defense. "And we'll find out what it does in just a minute anyway." He added quickly as Hermione gave him a look that resembled Professor McGonagall a bit too closely.  
  
Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and looked around for a suitable target. Next to the rock that Hermione was perched on was a small, dried up bush that hadn't survived the harsh winter. Draco smirked slightly and pointed his wand at it.  
  
"Inligo!"  
  
For a moment nothing happened. There was no shot of light from the wand, no shower of sparks, nothing. Draco frowned. Then there was a sudden noise and the bush twitched. Hermione's eyes widened and she watched it distrustfully. This was very wise of her because it gave another twitch and then sprouted out in every direction. Dead, bare branches reached every which way. Hermione gasped and scrambled up the rock. The crawling branches followed her and grasped her ankle. Hermione struggled to free her foot but it seemed impossible. More branches were reaching thirstily for her and she cried out in fear.  
  
"Finite! Finite Incantateum!" Draco cried out as he rushed forward to help having finally come to his senses.  
  
The shrubbery stopped its dire advance but did not retreat. It laid still and dead once again. Hermione tried to wrench her foot out of its grasp, but even though the branches appeared to be brittle, she found it quite impossible.  
  
"Here," Draco pulled a small black object from his pocket which turned out to be a little folded up knife. He easily cut the dry bough and helped Hermione off of her rock.  
  
"You have a knife?" She asked.  
  
"Lucius always thought it best to be prepared for anything. You never know when you might be without your wand and come across an excellent opportunity to use it on..." Hermione's eyes narrowed and Draco changed topics immediately. "Well that was certainly some spell wasn't it?"  
  
"Oh yes very, I loved how the bush tried to eat me, very invigorating." Hermione snapped.  
  
"Not to worry, it couldn't have eaten you, hasn't got a mouth. Would have just pulled you in and let you expire due to exposure to the elements." Draco grinned.  
  
"That's very comforting Draco." Hermione glared at him but could only maintain her frown for a moment before she smiled back at him.  
  
Hermione began to brush the remnants of dry twigs from the hem of her robe but stopped and then frowned. A distant rumble of voices could be heard approaching. Draco watched as she climbed back onto the rock and peered cautiously over the edge. Hermione ducked back and scurried down the rock, pulling her backpack with her.  
  
"What're you doing?" Draco asked.  
  
"Shh... They'll hear you." Hermione was putting things away in a rather haphazard manner. She finished and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him behind her. The voices were becoming clearer.  
  
"Who's going to hear?"  
  
"Ron and Harry, they're coming this way." Hermione pulled Draco behind a great tree a few paces into the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"So what? Wonder-boy Potter and that friend of his know that we spend time together. Or are they that slow that it's just now sinking in?" Draco felt oddly insulted. He didn't feel like hiding from Potter or Weasley.  
  
Hermione, who had been peering around the great trunk, turned back to glare at him. "Of course they know, but after that incident in the hospital wing, I've been trying to avoid reminding them." She told him. "Although I think that Ron has just simply repressed the memory to tell you the truth." She muttered.  
  
"Incident? What do you mean incident? You make it sound like it was nothing more than getting an answer wrong on your homework." Draco glared at her, insulted.  
  
"It's not that big of deal." She whispered, the sound of footsteps could now be heard.  
  
"Not that big of a deal? Of course not, your amazing little friends catch you kissing the enemy all the time. I'll bet they were thrilled, probably even threw you a party because you proved that you aren't nearly the good little girl that everyone thinks you are." Draco was furious now.  
  
"Draco please," Hermione whispered desperately, "they're going to hear you."  
  
"I don't care!" He snapped. Draco grabbed her arms and shoved her against the tree. He was so angry he could barely see her. He brought his mouth down upon hers hungrily. His hands squeezed her upper arms tightly and he pressed hard against her, roughly pushing her. A distant part of his mind could hear Potter and Weasley in conversation as they past only a few feet away. But Draco didn't let go of Hermione. He pressed harder, kissing her in much the same way that he had the very first time. She whimpered against him and Draco suddenly stopped. He let go. Draco stepped back slowly and looked at her.  
  
Hermione was still pressed to the tree; her eyes were wide and fearful. Draco's mouth fell open as he realized what he had done. He had pulled the clasp of her robe completely off and the dark cloth lay askew on her shoulders. The red and yellow sweater that she wore under it was disheveled. He hadn't known that hands were wandering. That his hands had been roaming over her. Draco's eyes returned to hers and found that they were flooding with tears. He wanted to say something, anything that would stop them but his mouth had gone dry.  
  
A tear slid down her cheek leaving a glistening trail in its wake and Hermione took a deep, ragged breath through bruised lips. She pulled away from the tree and edged slowly around Draco, careful not to touch him. Once she was past him she warily picked her bag up and backed away from him a few more steps before turning and sprinting back to the school.  
  
Draco watched her go unable to say what he needed to say. Unable to tell her that he was sorry. That he hadn't meant too.  
  
He returned to the large rock where they had been practicing and sat dejectedly on it. He could almost pretend that she was still here and that the last few minutes hadn't happened. It was a much more pleasant thought than knowing that she was somewhere far away in Gryffindor Tower hating him. Draco stood up and began pacing. Really, he had manhandled her like he was some type of lovesick teenager. There were many things that Malfoys did and did not do. Acting lovesick, or like a teenager were both taboo. But there he had been, pawing at a girl without a care as to what others might think, let alone Hermione. And to make everything worse, he had been so angry at the given moment that he could hardly remember it properly. There were his hands holding her arms, then sliding up onto her shoulders and then down again. Draco stopped pacing and stared up at the distant school with a slight look of awed surprise.  
  
"She's never going to forgive me for that," he said aloud.  
  
The next several days were long and gray. Time seemed to tick by in increasingly larger intervals. The sky had opened up and the rain seemed that it was never going to stop. Not that rain affected the dungeons any. It was always rather cold and drafty. The stone walls of the Slytherin dorms were damp and a faint trace of mildew always seemed present on the air no matter what the house elves did to get rid of it.  
  
None of this was helping Draco's dire mood. He sat in a high-backed chair brooding at the fireplace. He had spent the early part of the morning amusing himself by summoning the homework out of passing first years' bags, but after an hour, that had lost its appeal. Crabbe and Goyle had wanted to go flying. Only they would be dense enough to try and fly in weather like this. Part of Draco was hoping that a strong gust of wind from the south would blow them away, but he doubted that he would ever be so lucky.  
  
What he really would like to be doing at the moment would be to sit somewhere warm and dry with Hermione Granger. He would be happy to just sit somewhere quite with her and read, or discuss Potions homework, or hell, she could glare at him if that's what she wanted to do. Draco glowered darkly at the fireplace; he always hated it when she avoided him. And he hadn't the slightest idea how she managed to be so good at it either. They had classes together, they were doing a project together, and he went out of his way to try and corner her somewhere alone. But the blasted Gryffindor seemed to know every twist and turn of the school and she used it to her advantage every time, slipping quietly down some hall and then doubling back in the crowd. Or, as if that wasn't bad enough, she would constantly surround herself with other Gryffindors. Some of them she didn't even like. Draco knew for a fact that Hermione could barely stand that Lavender Brown girl and yet just the other day,  
when he had finally caught up to her in the library, she had sat down at a table with Brown to discuss Divination. Draco laughed derisively; he knew that she loathed that class.  
  
"Something wrong Draco?" A syrupy sweet voice whispered near his ear.  
  
Draco didn't start; he sat completely still, pretending that he had known of someone sneaking up on him. "What do you want Pansy?"  
  
The blonde Slytherin slide into the chair next to Draco's. She crossed her legs slowly and brushed a crease out of her robe. Her blue eyes glinted mischievously when they met his.  
  
"I just wanted to offer my condolences, I just heard." She leaned forward and placed a cool hand atop his.  
  
Draco made no comment; he knew that if he waited Pansy would simply tell him what she was going on about.  
  
Pansy's smile did not waver and she tightened her grip on his hand, "if you need anyone to talk to..."  
  
For one wild moment Draco thought that perhaps she was alluding to Hermione, but he knew that was impossible. "What are you talking about?" He asked sourly.  
  
"What? Don't you know?" Pansy's smile left her face but her eyes were twinkling merrily, she was enjoying this conversation. "No of course you wouldn't know. How silly of me to forget, you burn all the letters that your father sends you."  
  
Draco stiffened and glared at her sharply. He always made sure that he was alone when he destroyed his letters. Pansy must be spying on him.  
  
"Oh Draco, I don't know if I'm the one who should be telling you this, but your mother is sick." Pansy struggled not to smile as she said this.  
  
"You're lying," he said simply, struggling to not strangle Pansy with his bare hands until she told him everything that she knew.  
  
"Oh Draco," she whispered softly, feigning hurt. "I would never lie to you. Remember, our mothers go to Rue De Champs every year in Paris, but not this year. Your father told my mother that Narcissa is very sick and is seeing a specialist in St. Mungos."  
  
Draco didn't say anything; he knew perfectly well that his mother and Mrs. Parkinson went Paris every spring for a week of shopping. They had been doing it for years and his mother would rather die than miss it. Pansy was still sitting with him, her hand delicately draped over his, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She was enjoying this, she liked seeing him upset. Draco had always considered Pansy to be shallow and brainless, a little on the malicious side but she was a Slytherin after all. But for the first time, Draco could see something else in her, a shrewd cruelness that had somehow escaped his notice.  
  
"Is there anything that I can do?" She asked softly. Her voice was kind and gentle; it was the type of voice that had never come from Pansy before.  
  
"No," Draco said standing up abruptly; he knew who he needed to talk too, even if he was going to have to use a stunning spell on her first.  
  
"But Draco..." Pansy's voice trailed off as he left the common room. She waited until he was gone before sinking back into her chair a triumphant giggle escaping her lips.  
  
It wasn't that he was close to his mother. But Draco did care for her. She was his mother after all, and you only get one of those. She did spend most of her time away from the Manor with friends or shopping. There was the club that they belonged to where she greatly enjoyed playing, ponticulus with Pansy's mother. But she'd had a lot to put up with, being married to Lucius, and looking back on it, Draco doubted that he was the easiest son to raise. He didn't want her to be sick.  
  
The school was buzzing with students about to start their mid-afternoon lessons. Draco had been planning on feigning sickness and spending his afternoon sulking in the common room. Now he was starting to feel strangely ill and he couldn't find Hermione.  
  
"Where the bloody hell is she?" He muttered under his breath.  
  
She should be coming up the hall any minute now to go to Transfiguration, but so far he hadn't seen her. Gryffindors were pushing past him, watching him warily, but he paid them no mind, she had appeared at the end of the hall. She was walking with Potter and Weasley.  
  
Draco walked forward to meet them, "I need to talk to you." He said quickly.  
  
Hermione stared at him in surprise and Potter and Weasley both glared.  
  
"I don't think that's such a good idea Malfoy," she said quietly, glancing around at the other Gryffindors who had stopped milling about and were now watching with a keen interest.  
  
"I need to talk to you now." Draco said firmly, an edge of some distant panic seeping into his voice.  
  
"Go away Malfoy, she doesn't have anything to say to you." Potter said coldly.  
  
Draco didn't have to look around to know that he was in hostile territory, he was surrounded by Gryffindors, but he needed her. "I wasn't talking to you Potter," he hissed coldly.  
  
"Go away Draco," Hermione tried to push past him but Draco grabbed her arm and jerked her back.  
  
There were shouts from Potter and Weasley and the other Gryffindors were sputtering with rage.  
  
"Please," Draco whispered, "please, I need to talk to you."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and for a moment Draco thought that she was going to simply walk away. In what seemed like forever but was only a breath she finally nodded.  
  
"All right," she whispered, seemingly surprised by his ferocity and by her own surrender.  
  
There was rush of whispered voices amongst the people watching and Draco tightened his grip on her arm afraid that she might change her mind and bolt into the classroom after all. Potter and Weasley were glaring at him but they made no move to stop him as Draco pulled Hermione past them and away from the Transfiguration hall. People were staring, of course, as he pushed the gawkers out of his way. By the time he had found an empty classroom, Hermione's face was red from a deep blush.  
  
"I hope that you have a good reason for all of this." She snapped angrily as the door shut behind them and they were alone.  
  
Now that he had her, Draco didn't quite know what to say. As he looked into her fierce russet eyes he was suddenly unsure of why it had been so important to talk to her.  
  
"Well? I do have a class to be at you know. We're studying Devoveo spells today and I just know that they're going to be on the exam." Hermione sat on a desk and crossed her arms, glaring at him.  
  
Draco turned away and looked at the large window that took up most of the back wall. It was still raining softly, the humidity making the window steam up slightly at the edges even though it was still very cold outside. It was a dissatisfying rain.  
  
"Well?" Hermione's already thin bit of patience was about out.  
  
"My mother might be sick." Draco said softly.  
  
Hermione uncrossed his arms and stared at him, "What? How do you know?"  
  
Draco turned and faced her, "Pansy told me, she let it slip," he said derisively. "Probably thought it was some grand game."  
  
Hermione stood up and walked over to him, "well just because Pansy told you doesn't mean that it's true. She's probably lying. And besides, if your mother was sick Professor Dumbledore would tell you."  
  
"Of course he would." Draco told her sarcastically. "He's known for being open and straight-forward about things."  
  
"He would tell you. I know that he would." She said softly, and reached out to touch his arm.  
  
Draco stepped back from her, just out of reach. "Tell me Granger, has the amazing Headmaster ever told you what was wrong with precious Potter when the wonder boy ended up in the hospital wing?"  
  
"That's not fair," she snapped and pulled her hand back. "This has nothing to do with Harry."  
  
"Everything has to do with Harry and your silly ideals." Draco didn't even know why he was saying these things. He couldn't stop the emotion that was dying to pour out of him any way that could.  
  
"Was there something that you wanted Malfoy?" Hermione's voice was low and professional.  
  
"No, I didn't want anything from you." He hissed.  
  
"Fine," she turned and opened the door.  
  
Draco turned back and stared out the window, the afternoon landscape was lost in a dark, gray mist that looked like he felt. He was suddenly very tired and wished that he had just stayed in his common room by his fire.  
  
He didn't hear her turn back or approach, but quite suddenly, a pair of delicate arms had wrapped around him from behind. He stiffened automatically but breathed out in relief when he felt Hermione press her cheek against his shoulder blade.  
  
"It will be all right you know," she murmured.  
  
________________________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter! Please Read & Review!!!! 


	21. Another Dream Sequence?

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Okay…so I said that I would be able to post more frequently, that was about 3 weeks ago, I know. See…. I jinxed myself. I had more than half of it done three days after I had posted the last chapter and then there was a family emergency and I was several states away for more than a week. Not that you guys really care about my problems. Anyhoo…I'm rambling now aren't I? (  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
A light rain was falling outside the Gryffindor tower when Hermione awoke that morning. The dampness beyond the walls could not penetrate the dorm room though. A warm fire was blazing gaily away a few feet from Hermione's bed; the reddish light outlining her face as she began to wake, she never closed her curtains when she slept. Hermione opened her eyes and gazed up at the canopy of her four-poster, content for the moment to lie quietly and revel in her solitude. It was nice to have one place that was safe for her; one place where she could stop and think without being bothered by Ron or Harry, one place where she could hide from the penetrating looks that Draco would watch her with. In fact, Hermione's dorm room had become her one sanctuary from the outside. It was the one place where she could hide under red and gold quilts and pretend that the whole school wasn't whispering about her as she passed.  
  
It seemed that what had been a rather well kept secret was suddenly the most interesting subject in the entire school. Not to say that no one knew of Hermione being assigned to work with Draco. That had been acceptable to most people, especially those that knew Hermione and understood her absolute devotion to her schoolwork. But, as if overnight, Hogwarts seemed to have sat up and taken notice that not only was Hermione working with Draco Malfoy more often than one would think, but she also seemed to enjoy it. And the Slytherin in question didn't seem too perturbed about the arrangement either.  
  
Those close to her had known that there was something more than class work going on with Malfoy. There had been several opinions amongst her friends as to what was happening with Draco, the most prevalent belief followed more or less along with a statement of Ron's.  
  
"She's gone bloody daft!"  
  
Hermione knew that he meant well. And she knew that Harry and Ron were only trying to protect her. But Hermione had always liked being an only child; she certainly didn't need any over-protective brothers.  
  
It had seemed that her friends had decided that whatever shame Hermione was bringing upon herself by being with Draco, it was something that should be kept to themselves. Everyone seemed fairly content to ignore her strange behavior and odd acceptance of Draco. The school had continued on unaware of the pair sequestered in their room off the library.  
  
That had all changed, of course, when Draco had confronted her outside of Transfiguration the day before. Nothing had been said that could implicate either of them. But people who had watched didn't need solid proof; they had all heard the anger and desperation in Draco's normally sardonically calm voice. But more surprising than that was Hermione's own acceptance of his demands.  
  
Rumors had begun immediately. How long had they been on speaking terms? Why hadn't Hermione hexed him yet? Why was Draco tolerating a mudblood in his presence? Were they friends? Were they more than friends? There was very little excitement occurring at Hogwarts this year, no triwizard tournament, no petrified students, and no escaped convicts. So this little bit of gossip about a possible budding relationship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin spread through the halls like wild fire. Hermione didn't think she'd been this embarrassed since the time in her first year when she lost all those house points.  
  
She snuggled deeper in her blanket and closed her eyes again. She never wanted to leave this room again.  
  
"Hermione? Are you awake?" An all too close voice whispered.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and glanced to one side to find Parvarti and Lavender sitting on a neighboring bed. Something about the way that they were eyeing her speculatively made her groan inwardly.  
  
"Hermione, we're so glad that you're awake, we wanted to speak to you. A girl to girl talk, you know?" Lavender said smiling a smile that Hermione didn't like.  
  
"You see Hermione, there's been a lot talk going around the school and…" Parvarti began but was cut off by Hermione kicking of her blanket and climbing quickly out of the bed.  
  
"Oh no, look at the time, is it really already seven-thirty?" Hermione questioned while ducking into her closet and emerging mere seconds later pulling a robe over her clothes.  
  
Lavender and Parvarti weren't going to be so easily dissuaded and they followed her around the room while Hermione gathered her quills and books. "Are you going to meet Malfoy?" Lavender asked.  
  
Hermione turned to Parvarti and Lavender. "Malfoy? Of course not, I was going to watch Harry and Ron practice for the next game." This was a lie of course, she had been planning on heading to the library to meet Draco, and Hermione wasn't even sure if Harry and Ron even had a practice scheduled for that morning.  
  
"Well let's all go together then." Parvarti said brightly and linked her arm with Hermione's and pulled her through the door.  
  
"No that's all right, I think I can find my own way there." Hermione pleaded desperately, knowing that an interrogation was close at hand.  
  
"Nonsense! Parvarti and I love to watch Quidditch, and we never spend enough time together. Do we Parvarti?"  
  
They pulled her down a flight of stairs and Hermione was struggling to think of anything that could get her away from her roommates that were beginning to remind her of a pair of harpies.  
  
"Hermione!" a voice called from the fourth year girls' doorway. "Oh I'm so glad that I ran into you, I wanted you to help me with this problem in my Charms homework." Ginny stepped out of her room and beamed at Hermione.  
  
"Hermione's going with us to watch Quidditch practice," Parvarti told her coolly.  
  
"Oh this will only take a minute girls," Ginny grabbed one of Hermione's hand and tugged her away from the others. "She can catch up with you!" Ginny pulled Hermione into her room and shut the door in Lavender and Parvarti's face.  
  
Hermione sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed and sighed in relief. "Thank you."  
  
"Don't worry about it, you looked like you could use a rescue. Don't those two have anything better to do?" Ginny was still wearing her pajamas and flopped back onto her bed next to Hermione.  
  
"Well no one else seems to have anything better to do either." Hermione grumbled.  
  
"Well honestly, what did you expect? You are with Malfoy, aren't you?" Ginny looked at Hermione.  
  
"What?" Hermione flushed, "I…I am not! Is that what everyone is saying?"  
  
"It's one popular theory. It's right behind the belief that you're using Draco to make Ron and/or Harry jealous or that he found something to blackmail you into doing all his homework. My personal favorite is that you're actually Malfoy's long lost twin sister and that the two of you are so happy to have finally been reunited that you're spending all your time together."  
  
"But I don't even look like Draco," Hermione muttered. She looked dumbfounded for a moment and then glared at Ginny, "you just made that one up!"  
  
"Well yes, I suppose that I did. But really, some of the things people are saying are absolutely ludicrous."  
  
"You're not helping Ginny," Hermione muttered morosely.  
  
Ginny smiled kindly at Hermione. "It will blow over, I promise. The school is just bored right now. Remember all the rumors that were flying after you went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum last year? What can I say Hermione, your love life is just too exciting for Hogwarts to ignore."  
  
"I'm flattered, really." Hermione stood up and paced around the room. "What should I do now?"  
  
Ginny had ducked into her own closet and emerged in a school robe, "come to breakfast with me of course. Eating meals all by yourself just to avoid the rest of the school can't be healthy. And besides, the more you hide from everyone, the guiltier you look."  
  
"How do you know all this?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I've got six older brothers and you've met my mother. I know how to get out of the way of trouble. The best thing you can do is face them and laugh." Ginny linked her arm with Hermione and led the other girl out of the room.  
  
"This can't possibly be a good idea." Hermione muttered as they left the Gryffindor tower.  
  
  
  
Breakfast turned out to be more bearable than Hermione would have suspected. While the hall had buzzed excitedly upon her entrance, the resolute expression that she wore seemed to overcome even the staunchest gossipers. After a few disgruntled glares in her direction over her refusal to add fuel to the fire, most students settled back down to their own meals, leaving Hermione to hers.  
  
"Oooh, Hermione, try some of this." Ginny heaped a large portion of eggs onto her plate. There were tiny pieces of brightly colored edible eggshells scattered throughout it.  
  
Hermione looked quizzically at her plate then back up at Ginny, "you know Gin, my Mum usually tries to leave the eggshell out of the breakfast food.  
  
Ginny wrinkled her nose, "why would you want to do that? The shell is were all the flavor is." She sunk her fork deep into her own.  
  
Hermione said nothing and reached for a piece of toast. She generally enjoyed wizarding food. But today something nice and familiar would be better.  
  
A rustle of movement caught her attention and she looked up to see the morning owls swooping down upon them. Hedwig landed at their table and looked around for Harry.  
  
"Sorry Hedwig," Ginny told the snowy owl, "Harry's at practice."  
  
The owl took flight in annoyance and Ginny watched her spiral upward, but Hermione's eyes were following a different owl. Draco's eagle owl had descended rapidly to the Slytherin table, pulling back only at the last second and narrowly missing sinking it's sharp claws into Draco's head. The bird was clutching a letter and Hermione dropped her piece of toast. She knew without a doubt that Draco was going to do something very stupid, she knew that he was going to open that letter from his father.  
  
Hermione had done her best to convince him that if his mother really was sick that the Headmaster would tell him. She hoped that she had sounded more sincere than she felt. Draco had had a good point about the Headmaster being less than forth coming on occasion. But Hermione couldn't believe that Pansy was telling the truth, it had to be some type of trick.  
  
Draco glanced up from the far side of the hall and she met his gray eyes. Even from this distance she knew what he was thinking. He had to know, even if this letter held some vile curse. Even if his father was lying, he had to know.  
  
Draco stood up abruptly and several Slytherins stopped eating and looked at him. He held eye-contact with her a few moments more before turned and walked swiftly from the dining hall, letter in hand.  
  
Hermione stood up immediately almost knocking a glass of pumpkin juice down. Ginny looked up at her in surprise but Hermione was already pushing her chair back and scooting around the other Gryffindors.  
  
"Hermione what are you…" Ginny paused as she followed Hermione's gaze and saw Draco exit the hall. "Hermione, that's really not a good idea." She whispered because the other students were beginning to take notice.  
  
Hermione ignored her and sprinted past the tables and through the doors after Draco. It was almost refreshing to realize that at the moment she didn't care what anyone thought.  
  
She didn't even need to think about where he would be. The room off the library was just as ingrained in his mind as it was in hers. Hermione headed to the library dashing down the hall stopping to walk only when Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick emerged from a classroom together. It struck Hermione as she sped up again how ironic it seemed that she was chasing down a hallway after Draco Malfoy when just a year ago, maybe even a few months ago, she wouldn't even have a batted an eyelash over his suffering. But then, maybe if it weren't for her he wouldn't be suffering. Hermione had never considered that any of this might have something to do with her. She had never asked Draco why he wasn't becoming a Death Eater.  
  
She knocked over a stack of books when she entered the library but ignored the librarian who yelled after her. A few students looked up in surprise as she went by, Hermione was a regular fixture of the library, but to see her running and knocking things over seemed quite out of character with the quiet young bookworm. She took the steps up the little spiral staircase two at a time and threw open the door to their room with such vehemence that it struck the wall.  
  
"Draco don't," she called out desperately.  
  
Draco was standing a few steps into the room, already ripping open the envelope, "Don't worry," he told her without looking up as he unfolded the piece of parchment, "it's just a letter."  
  
"Are you sure?" She said in between breaths.  
  
He nodded and she collapsed into a chair with a sigh of relief, and began to gingerly rub her side where an angry stitch had developed somewhere along her race to the library.  
  
"You can read it if you want," he said dully and dropped the letter into her lap before turning to picking up a book and then sat down.  
  
Hermione eyed the parchment warily and then glanced at Draco, he had begun to make notations in the book and seemed completely uninterested in her and the letter. Shrugging she picked it up and started to read it.  
  
Draco,  
  
I have no means of which to get this information to you other than hope that you will eventually lay aside some of your childish stubbornness and read the letters that I send you through the owl post. I imagine that you destroy most of them but hopefully some sense will sink in and I will be able to reach you.  
  
  
  
I fear that there is very little time left for your dear mother. She has come down with a fearful case of Aucupor and the specialists at St. Mungo's have assured me that they are doing everything possible to aid her in recovery. However, this is a very difficult illness and your mother has always been a fragile woman with a very weak constitution and I cannot believe that she has the vigor to pull through. She also suffered a mighty blow when you became estranged from us. I have lead to believe that this owes more greatly to the undue influence of some unsavory elements at your school, namely the Headmaster and his precious muggle-borns. You and I know the truth of course, but the knowledge that you would betray your family in such a despicable manner would certainly obliterate any possibility of her recovery.  
  
  
  
I am keeping her illness as covert as I can. I believe that a sudden outpouring of support from her friends might not be beneficial and there are those who would use this weakness to affect my goals. Only a few close friends have been informed of the seriousness with which we are taking her sickness.  
  
  
  
I have no illusions as to your feelings for myself, but I would hope that I raised you well enough that you would show some concern over the passing of your mother. But the choice inevitably relies upon your rather unfaithful shoulders.  
  
  
  
Father  
  
  
  
Hermione looked up, "Draco?"  
  
  
  
"I don't want to talk about it." He said simply without looking up.  
  
  
  
"But you can't possibly believe…"  
  
  
  
"I said," Draco snapped his book shut and glared at Hermione, "that I  
  
did not wish to talk about it."  
  
"You can't just accept this for face value," Hermione stood up and started pacing, "I mean, there isn't any proof that your mother even has a cold let alone a critical illness."  
  
Draco stood and glared savagely at Hermione. "It isn't any of your business Granger."  
  
Hermione stopped pacing and looked over at him in surprise, "what?"  
  
"It isn't any of your business." Draco turned his back to her and went to a stack of books and pulled out the one he wanted. He returned to his seat and pulled found a quill under a roll of a parchment.  
  
Hermione stood speechless watching him. "So that's how you want it then?" She waited for him to say or do something but he sat stoically still. "Fine."  
  
She swept past him and snatched a book off the table. Thrusting it into her bag she glared at him over her shoulder and then stormed from the room. Draco never looked up.  
  
  
  
Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of her bed and angrily opened the Latin dictionary. A sudden ripping sound followed her actions and Hermione stared at the torn page in her hand.  
  
"Oh blast." She set the book down and pulled her wand out and quickly repaired the torn page.  
  
Leaning back, Hermione closed her eyes trying to force herself to forget the letter. She wanted to forget all about the Malfoys, especially Draco. She wasn't sure when he became the central figure in her mind, but she now seemed unable to exile him from her thoughts.  
  
Hermione just couldn't understand why he didn't realize that none of it was true. It just couldn't be true, could it? It seemed too coincidental. And Draco just seemed to be accepting it. She just couldn't understand. And she couldn't understand how when she had left their room earlier it had felt as if everything they had gained, everything that had seemed to bring them together and blur the lines that had always separated them was now gone. She had left that room feeling as if they were strangers.  
  
"No, not strangers," she muttered, "enemies."  
  
  
  
The alley was dim but the cobbled stones of the street seemed to refract the light of the moon and send it glancing deep into the sanctuary of darkness that Hermione was cowering in. Voices could be heard and Hermione strained her ears trying to listen. A raucous chorus of laughter overwhelmed the other voices and Hermione leaned out of the ally in order to see what was going on. A group of men stood before a run-down house. Draco was sprawled on the ground looking rather worse for wear with a bloodied lip and bruises marking his normally alabaster cheeks. His father stood before him, casually pointing a wand at his son. Hermione gasped and stumbled forward into the street.  
  
"Draco," she cried knowing that she could do nothing to help him but seemed unable to stop herself from trying.  
  
Draco glanced in her direction, "Is it all for naught then?"  
  
"What?" Hermione whispered not understanding, none of the other shadowy figures seemed to take notice of her presence.  
  
"Has all my research been for naught?" Draco repeated.  
  
Hermione shivered as a frigid breeze ruffled her robes. But she wasn't wearing robes; she was wearing her flannel pajamas that her mother had given her for Christmas this year. She shivered again and then woke up.  
  
An icy wind howled around the Gryffindor tower and a draft had leaked into the girl's dorm. At some point during her dream the quilt had slipped from her restless form and lay pooled on the floor. Leaning down, Hermione scooped it back up and wrapped it around her shoulders. Sitting on her bed she lifted her wand from the bedside table.  
  
"lumos"  
  
The tip of the wand burst into a blue white ball of light that made her eyes go blind for a moment. The radiance that emanated from the wand was comforting after the darkness of her dream.  
  
"Hermione…" a voice mumbled in the bed next to hers. Lavender, who had always been an annoyingly light sleeper, pushed her own blanket back and looked bleary-eyed at Hermione. "What are you doing? It's…" she glanced at a small clock that rested on her table, "three in the morning."  
  
"Sorry," Hermione whispered. "Just had a bad dream, I'll turn out the light now."  
  
Lavender sat up in bed and lighted her own wand, "a dream? Really? What type of dream? Was it about a certain Slytherin?"  
  
"No!" Hermione replied too vehemently and then flushed, she had never been very good at lying.  
  
"C'mon, you can tell me, I know all about dreams." Lavender beamed proudly at her. "Professor Trelawney says that dreams are windows into the inner workings of the sub-conscious."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow in disbelief.  
  
"All right, that's mostly me, but dreams are very important."  
  
Hermione put her light out and lay back down. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep. It was to no avail though; she kept hearing Draco over and over in her.  
  
"Lavender," she said rolling back over onto her side and relighting her wand, "in my dream, someone repeated something, as if it was really important."  
  
Lavender, who had laid back down, propped herself up on one elbow, "well does it mean something to you?"  
  
"I…I don't think so."  
  
"Are you sure? Had you ever heard it somewhere before? Or, knowing you, read it in a book? I can't believe I'm saying this, but think hard Hermione." Lavender pulled her blanket tighter around her before adding, "Sometimes we lose sight of things, and dreams can help remind us. And most dreams are based upon things that you are familiar with to some extent."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus. It was recognizable, of course, but she could have heard it anywhere, right? She sighed dejectedly and glowered at the floor. The Latin dictionary lay open next to one of the old journals from the library. She had been too frustrated to bother putting them away. It was very unlike her to not treat books well, or be untidy for that matter. Hermione suddenly sat up again. She threw her own blanket off and stumbled out of the bed and kneeled next to the stack of books. She opened the top one and began furiously flipping through it.  
  
Lavender leaned forward and watched with interest. "Think of something?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione whispered as she tossed aside the first book and started with the next. It was one that Draco had read from so long ago when they had first learned who O'Leary was. She skimmed along quickly going to where Draco had marked his place. They had never finished going through this text, the spell books had taken up most of their interest. Her finger traced along the encrypted code until she found what she was looking for. Draco had noted it with a little slip of paper.  
  
"I can only hope that my research will not be for naught."  
  
"Draco said this," Hermione whispered softly, forgetting Lavender's watchful eyes.  
  
"Draco?" Lavender asked with wide eyes, everyone knew the rumors, but this was more intriguing than she had imagined.  
  
Hermione wasn't listening to Lavender anymore though. She got to her feet and headed into her closet. She got dressed hurriedly and started to pack up her bag.  
  
"Hermione, you're not going to the library, are you?" Lavender asked in disbelief.  
  
Parvarti grumbled and sat up, "can't you two talk quietly? Is it really three in the morning?" The sleepiness gave way to annoyance.  
  
"Hermione has been dreaming about Draco Malfoy and now she's sneaking out to go to the library." Lavender said matter a factly as she watched Hermione pulled her boots on.  
  
"What! Really?" Parvarti asked excitedly.  
  
Hermione didn't even bother to glare at her dorm-mates as she quickly headed to the door.  
  
"Don't get caught!" Lavender called out softly as Hermione pulled it closed behind her.  
  
As she snuck to the library Hermione couldn't help but hear Draco's voice in her head, what he had said in the dream and what he read from the book before were so nearly identical, it had to mean something. But there was something else to it. These were O'Leary's words, not Draco's. And they were important.  
  
______________________________________________________  
  
**Well I didn't get to what I wanted to get to in this chapter so we're now probably looking at about 4 more chapters…… at least… sigh….. anyhoo.. Please Read & Review!!! 


	22. Trouble in Potions

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***HA! I told all of you that I would be able to post more frequently. See… this a whole week earlier than I would normally be posting. ( And…yet again…I didn't get to what I wanted to get to. Remember, I mentioned it when I posted last? Sigh  
  
****Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I really really appreciate it. I'm always so happy when I get reviewed. And thanks especially to vegeta (my beta reader) who I never thank often enough. And everyone should thank Kenzie. If it weren't for her it would have been days before I finished this chapter. (  
  
______________  
  
Deep below the Hogwarts castle, Draco awoke. He was covered in a thin veil of sweat even though the fire had gone out a long time ago and a chill was in the air. He knew that it must be very late but Draco was wide- awake now. He couldn't remember what had awoken him or what his dreams had been about, but for that he was thankful. Draco's dreams were far darker than Hermione's, but then, he had known more violence than she had. Being Lucius' son, Draco had been present several times when Lucius was going to make an example of someone. And considering how great his knowledge of dark spells, he had quite an active imagination.  
  
Throwing back the green satin coverlet, Draco swung out of bed and crossed the room to his dresser where he changed into a thick school robe. He exited his room and entered a long dark hall dimly lit with dripping candles. Doors led off of from either side into other dorm rooms but Draco headed straight down towards the common room.  
  
It was empty and silent when he got there. Surveying the room he went to the portrait hole and slipped out. He wanted to pick over the letter again; maybe something would give him a clue as to what was really going on. Draco knew that this was probably an effort in futility, all of his tricks had been taught to him by Lucius, there was little doubt that he would have been extra cautious in his wording. But Draco couldn't sleep and it would help him to focus on something, anything.  
  
The walk to the library took a long time, he'd had to hide several times behind suits of armor and even ducked into a deserted classroom a time or too. The blasted cat kept trying to sneak up on him. The mangy thing seemed to know that he was there but just couldn't find him. He was surprised that there hadn't been any teachers roaming the halls. It use to seem as if they were everywhere when he snuck out with Crabbe and Goyle. It felt like a very long time since he had snuck out with them. Or had gone out with Pansy to take in the view from the Astronomy tower. But he didn't miss it. Most of his free time was spent working with Hermione, thinking of Hermione, or fighting with her. And of course, he had messed that up again, he had hurt her again. No sooner had she forgiven him for some nasty indiscretion than he went and did another one. Honestly, if he had been in her position he probably would have hexed himself by now. Draco frowned as he thought; he just wasn't very good at being nice.  
  
He reached their room and unlocked the door. As it opened a glimmer of light shone through the crack and he opened it all the way with a bit of surprise and found her sitting at the table, deeply involved with her book. She glanced up and for a moment her brown eyes held relief but they changed suddenly to fear and then worry as if she were remembering something. She looked back down.  
  
His letter lay on the table where it had been left earlier. "Isn't it a little late?" He asked quietly.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," she muttered, "I had a dream." She added when he looked at her more closely. "Why are you here?"  
  
"I couldn't sleep either," he replied.  
  
"Bad dream?"  
  
"Probably, but the details seem to have slipped my mind at the moment." Draco closed the door behind him. She jumped a little at the sound that it made. "So what was your dream about?" Draco asked with interest; she wasn't usually so jumpy.  
  
"Nothing" she muttered looking away from him, which was always a sign that it had definitely been something.  
  
"Was I in it?" He smirked seductively.  
  
"No!" She cried out in alarm and he just grinned more, she wasn't very skilled at lying. "And even if you were in my dream, it wasn't that type of dream."  
  
"But you've had those types of dreams before? About me?" Draco grinned with triumphant delight.  
  
"I…I didn't say that," Hermione's voice faltered and she blushed.  
  
Draco smirked at her and she buried her head in her arms. "You're such a prat Malfoy, you know that, right?"  
  
"You might have mentioned it once or twice Granger." He said gently still smiling. "So your dream, which wasn't that type of dream, what was it about?" He sat down on the window bench and looked at her.  
  
"I'm not sure, maybe a warning?" Hermione muttered, lifting her head to look at him.  
  
"I thought that you didn't hold with all that divination mumbo- jumbo."  
  
"I don't normally, this just seemed different though." Hermione flipped another page in the book and started to make more notes. "I think that I might almost have something, but I'm not sure, I'm having difficulty with the translation."  
  
Draco held out his hand for the book and Hermione glared at him momentarily before joining Draco on the window seat. Draco examined the book; it was one of the first encrypted ones that they had worked from.  
  
"I remember this book." He muttered and began to look over her translation. "Well you've done pretty good considering that Latin isn't your strongest subject."  
  
Hermione glowered at him and Draco knew immediately that she had just fought down the urge to push him off the bench. She chose instead to ignore his comment. "This word here, and that phrase the next paragraph down. I can't figure out either of those."  
  
Draco glanced over what she had just pointed out and then his eyes widened. "I know what this means," he said quickly pointing to the phrase. "It says nex necis. It's what they use to call the unforgivable curses, the original name."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, the color draining from her face.  
  
"Oh don't tell me that they keep you little Gryffindors that sheltered? The unforgivable curses, you know, Cruciatus, Imperius, and Av…"  
  
Hermione interceded, "of course I know what they are! But why is he writing about them?"  
  
Draco frowned, "well it's probably because they were created right about that time as well."  
  
"They were? I didn't know that." Hermione was starting to get her color back.  
  
"Well it isn't a very well known fact, but supposedly they were created by some group of wizards during the seizure of the Ministry back at the turn of the fifteenth century."  
  
Hermione looked surprised, "how do you know that?"  
  
Draco grinned with pride; "well I just put my knowledge of the dark arts together with that scroll you lent me by Greyson. I'm can be very ingenious at times."  
  
"I'm thrilled that your knowledge of all things dark and evil is so great Draco." Hermione said sourly. "So then the wizards that took hold of the ministry created those spells."  
  
"No," Draco said quickly, "no, they were made by someone else. Lucius always said that we owed a great deal to a few unknown simpletons that were trying to do the right thing."  
  
Hermione sat quietly, the fingers of one hand were absentmindedly playing with a lock of dark hair, "You don't think," she paused and then continued in a whispered voice, "that O'Leary created them? He couldn't have, could he? They're evil spells."  
  
"Well he sounded rather desperate in his earlier journals." Draco said thoughtfully. "And we know that he can make his own spells."  
  
"B…but, they're evil." Hermione whispered again in apparent shock. "And he was good, he couldn't have, he wouldn't have!"  
  
"Just because they're evil spells, that doesn't mean that they aren't useful." Draco said automatically.  
  
Hermione looked at him with a horrified expression before standing up, "you're terrible. Really, really horrible. Do you know that?"  
  
"Well it's true." Draco replied simply, as he watched her begin to angrily to pace around the little room. "Just because something does bad things, that doesn't mean that it has no place in our world."  
  
"Those spells have hurt so many people, don't you understand that? That one spell killed Harry's parents! Don't you care?" Hermione didn't give him time to respond as she continued on ranting. "Of course you don't care, you're almost just as bad as those death eaters, no matter what you say. You're just mean, and nasty, and evil…"  
  
"I am not evil! And I'm certainly no death eater!" Draco snapped breaking Hermione's tirade in-mid breath.  
  
"Why not?" She asked him softly, the anger gone from her eyes, only curiosity left.  
  
"Because of you; I think," he replied quietly.  
  
"That doesn't make any sense." Hermione came and sat back down next to Draco.  
  
"I know that it doesn't." He muttered.  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment. "Draco, are you in danger because of me?"  
  
Her question held so many unanswerable worries and so many hopes. Draco felt a sudden unbearable pressure with her words and lashed out before thinking. "Of course I'm in danger because of you. What? Did you think my father would be happy if he knew that I enjoy kissing a mudblood?"  
  
There was an echoing moment of silence in which Draco fervently wished that he had been born a mute before Hermione stood up. She didn't look at him, only quietly gathered her things. Pausing before the door she finally met his eyes. And for once, Draco knew exactly what they said; she wasn't coming back.  
  
He launched himself after her and Hermione pushed through the door. She darted down the walkway to the stairs but Draco was faster. He grabbed her arm and jerked her backwards. She struggled against him and her hand darted towards her pocket where he knew her wand was. He forced it out of her hand as she pulled it out and she glared up at him with furious eyes.  
  
"I'll scream," she hissed.  
  
"You won't," he replied firmly hoping that he sounded more sure than he was.  
  
He dragged her back into the room and pulled the door closed behind him. She was still struggling to break his grip, but she wasn't having much luck.  
  
"Would you stop that? You're just wasting your time, not to mention your energy." Just to make sure, Draco tightened his grip.  
  
Hermione glared at him but stopped struggling.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry," he began gently, "I don't think of you like that, not anymore. You know that I don't."  
  
"I don't know anything about what you think Malfoy. You're always saying something different, or even worse, not saying anything at all and I'm rather sick of it." The fight seemed to be going out of her and she sagged slightly, "I fight with you more than I fight with Ron."  
  
Draco felt a hot flash of anger, "well if being with me is so terrible, why don't you go be with him." And with that Draco let go her and she stumbled backwards.  
  
Her eyes sparked dangerously and she seemed to swell in anger, "I'm not with you!" She stepped to him and pointed her finger at him. "The only time we're ever together is in this room."  
  
"Is that it then?" He snapped, stepping closer to her.  
  
"Of course that's it, we wouldn't want to soil your good name by associating with a mudblood."  
  
"It doesn't have anything to do with my name!" Draco's head was beginning to hurt and he knew that if they got much louder, surely someone would hear.  
  
"Doesn't have to do with your name? Of cou…"  
  
Hermione's voice had risen to such a shrill crescendo that Draco imagined that he could hear doors opening closing and could see Filch pounding up the stairs. Knowing that he needed to silence Hermione, Draco did something that would generally be considered very foolhardy. He kissed her, breaking off her rant mid-sentence.  
  
She was so surprised that she didn't do anything for several seconds, which was enough time for Draco to pull her closer to him. And when she finally did respond to his advance, it wasn't by pushing him away, but by pulling him even closer, her hands curling around the back of his neck.  
  
Draco didn't pause to question this surprising turn of events, he was too busy becoming aware of how every part of his body seemed to have woken up. He was wondering at how a rush of endorphins from a few simple kisses could have such a profound effect on him. A faraway part of Draco's mind was marveling at how he could want Hermione more than anything else. His mouth left hers and began to trace across her jaw. She tilted her head back and his lips came to rest at the silkily soft skin right below her ear. He breathed in the scent of her hair, a faint trace of vanilla. Draco broke away without letting go and studied her face. Her eyes opened and met his.  
  
"You're with me now," he whispered huskily.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, "I'm with you now," she agreed in a breathless voice.  
  
Draco kissed her again, his lips zealously seeking hers. Her fingers tightened, pulling his pale hair. He drew her along with him as he stumbled through the stacks that littered the room. They found their way to the window seat and Draco pulled her down with him as he sat. One armed wrapped around her back holding her close while his other hand cupped her face. Her own hands dropped from his neck and ran along his chest, finding a way through his robes, her cool fingers leaving little burning wakes upon his skin. He hadn't bothered to put a shirt on when he had left, only taking time to drape a robe over his shoulders and pajama bottoms, and the first moment her fingers found contact he was immensely thankful for his earlier haste.  
  
Hermione pulled him along with her as she leaned farther down against the seat and Draco certainly put up no argument as he kissed the shallow hollow at the base of her throat. Draco pulled up from her and gazed at her face, hers cheeks had become rosy and her eyes were glassy. The sudden lack of contact seemed to almost pain her and she breathed hard. He held her gaze and gently lifted a hand to brush a stray curl back. She shivered against him as his fingers touched her temple. Draco swallowed, finding his mouth suddenly very dry, and let his hand trace back down her face. Hermione's eyes widened when she seemed to realize what he was attempting but she made no effort to stop his fingers as they found the clasp of her robe.  
  
He pushed the dark cloth away, forcing himself to move slowly, not giving into his desire to rip it to pieces. A slightly bemused expression spread across his face as he realized that Hermione was also wearing her pajamas under her robe, supple flannel with a pattern of small stars. Hermione seemed to notice his expression and frowned. Draco sensed that she was about to say something and he kissed her again before she could. And once again, Hermione melted into his arms. Under his robes, Hermione's hands gripped his shoulders and brought him closer.  
  
Her closeness was intoxicating and Draco was having a hard time fighting the urge to go faster, to kiss harder. He didn't want to do anything that would make her slap him and storm away again. Draco realized that his hands had slid down her sides and had paused at the bottom of her nightshirt; it had risen up a bit and exposed a stretch of pale skin right above her navel. She stiffened as his fingers explored the naked skin. His fingertips paused at the hem of her shirt before sliding under the warm fabric. They moved further up and she whimpered softly. Her hands suddenly pulled out of his robes and she caught his before they could go any farther.  
  
She held his hands in her own, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. Draco sat back, his hands still clasped tightly; he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Hermione's eyes began to sparkle with an early hint of tears. She seemed on the verge of getting up when Draco pulled his hands from hers and shifted her so that she was leaning against him. He draped an arm around her shoulders and gently kissed the crown of her head.  
  
She had gone very rigid when he pulled her to him, but she finally let out a deep breath and let her head rest upon his chest. He listened to her breathe without saying a word. Draco knew from past experience that it was a good idea to keep his mouth shut and avoid the possibility of saying something impeccably stupid. Hermione grew more still and eventually Draco knew that she had fallen asleep. He waited a few moments more, enjoying the defenseless closeness of her. He wasn't sure if he had ever been near someone that trusted him this much.  
  
Draco smiled and closed his own eyes, not believing that he would sleep, but wanting very much to have this moment extend indefinitely. His head seemed to become heavier and before he knew it, before he could fight against it, Draco had slipped into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.  
  
  
  
He knew that it was ridiculous to believe that her absence was what woke him up several hours later when the sun had finally cleared the horizon of mountains. Draco knew that it was probably just his internal clock telling him that he would be late for potions if he didn't get up soon. But he couldn't help but feel, when he opened his eyes that morning and found the room deserted, that her non-existent presence had been responsible.  
  
Draco hadn't even been surprised when he jolted awake. A breeze ruffled the scrolls on the table as if she had just shut the door but when he had peered down the slowly lightening walkway it was empty.  
  
Shafts of early morning sunlight had begun to stream through the high windows and Draco remembered that he was still wearing his pajamas. If he went to change now he would just make it in time for class. Professor Snape might favor the Slytherins, but he had always frowned upon tardiness. Draco sped out of the room, pausing long enough to lock the door, hoping that if anyone saw him, they would just assume that he had gotten up especially early, instead of staying up especially late.  
  
  
  
Draco settled himself into his seat and glanced around the dungeon. The entire class was nearly here, minus Hermione. Potter and Weasley were wearing equally surprised faces; Hermione was never late. By chance, or maybe suspicion, Potter glanced at Draco. Not wanting to disappoint, Draco treated the Gryffindor boy to a knowing smirk.  
  
All eyes turned as the door flew opened with a noticeable rush of haste, and Hermione practically tripped into the room.  
  
"Ahh, Ms. Granger, I am so pleased that you have decided to join us for class today." Professor Snape said coldly.  
  
"Professor Snape, I'm so sorry. I…" Hermione tried to explain.  
  
"I don't want to hear your paltry attempts at an excuse. Ten points from Gryffindor. Now sit down before you hold up our precious class time even more than you already have." Snape's bracing voice made Draco frown; she had apologized after all.  
  
Hermione nodded quickly, looking very embarrassed, and started towards her seat. She stopped when she saw Draco. Her eyes went wide and she blushed deeply. Draco felt like he should say something to her, which was absurd really since Snape was impatiently waiting for her to take her seat.  
  
"Something wrong Ms. Granger? I never knew that Mr. Malfoy was so interesting."  
  
Hermione gasped and then fled to her seat turning her back on Draco.  
  
Draco found himself glaring at his favorite professor now. Normally Draco found it amusing when Professor Snape gave the Gryffindors flak, but Hermione hadn't really deserved all that. It was obvious from the deep circles under her eyes that she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Thinking of the night before made Draco break out into a wide smirk and he leaned back in his chair and let himself remember.  
  
His potion was bubbling along quite nicely which was surprising since he had spent most of the class watching Hermione carefully measure out her ingredients. She had pulled her dark brown hair back into a loose bun that she had affixed simply with a single band. Draco thought that it looked rather evocative, the back of her slender neck naked except for a few wispy tendrils that had escaped.  
  
As he watched one of the other Gryffindor girls, Lavender he thought, started up the aisle. She slipped on the hem of her robe, which was fashionably too long and stumbled into Hermione. There was a boom as Hermione's pinch of powdered lotus root turned into a handful. Lavender fell down crying, holding her hands over her face. But Draco couldn't care less about her; he had already pushed past the fallen girl. Hermione was staring at her melted cauldron; a thick acidic green liquid was still spilling over the edge of her table. Draco reached her before almost anyone else had time to react. He noticed right away that her hands were covered in the same green fluid, as was the front of her robe. She seemed oblivious however as she raised her eyes to look at the other girl.  
  
"Lavender?" She whispered dully.  
  
Professor Snape was roaring up the aisle to them and Draco, having seen the affect that lotus root burns could have started to wrap Hermione's hands in rags. She seemed oblivious to him as she looked at the other girl. Draco quickly undid the clasp of her robes and pulled it off of her, luckily enough for Hermione, she enjoyed wearing muggle clothes under her robes. Unlike some witches who would have been putting on quite a show in their knickers, Hermione was wearing a simple sweater and a brown, pleated skirt. Draco balled the smoldering robes and dropped them on top of the demolished cauldron.  
  
"Lavender are you all right?" Hermione's voice was quavering from shock and pain.  
  
"What have you done you idiot girl!" Professor Snape, who had pulled Lavender's hands away from her face to reveal that only a few burning drops had struck, bellowed at Hermione.  
  
"Is she all right? I hadn't meant to. It was an accident."  
  
"An accident? There are no accidents." Professor Snape pulled Lavender to her feet.  
  
Lavender was crying uncontrollably and Professor Snape was glowering at Hermione.  
  
"Professor Snape," Potter cried out, coming to stand next to Draco, "it wasn't Hermione's fault, Lavender stumbled, she knocked into Hermione."  
  
Draco nodded quickly knowing that Snape would be far more likely to believe him than Potter.  
  
"I don't care, Granger knows better than to measure lotus root above an open cauldron." Snape's glare never left Hermione. "Get out of my class. Take Ms. Brown to the hospital wing and don't come back until you've written me five feet about proper safety standards in Potion making."  
  
Hermione nodded mutely and wrapped a swathed arm around the other girl's shoulders and led her from the room, her shoulders shaking.  
  
And for the first time in his entire life, Draco found his own voice raised in anger with the Gryffindors, not against. Potter and Weasley were now on either side of him and both boys looked at him in surprise. But in the chaos, no one else noticed Draco.  
  
"Sit down!" Snape's generally calm voice cracked in anger and the room began to quiet.  
  
"It wasn't her fault," Draco snapped back at the Professor.  
  
"Yeah," Weasley spit angrily, "it was Lavender who wasn't paying attention."  
  
"Goyle did the same thing last week, he's just singling Hermione out because she's a Gryffindor." Potter muttered.  
  
"Of course he is," Draco agreed.  
  
There was an awkward pause and the three boys looked at each other in silence. Draco then turned on his heel and headed back to his seat. He spent the rest of the class with a look of boredom masking his trepidation.  
  
  
  
_________________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter. Please Read & Review! 


	23. Watcher in the Woods

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Okay… so my belief was that I should be able to post more often, but then I had to go and get blocked. I swear, I had most of this chapter done two weeks ago, but then I just couldn't finish. Very frustrating. (  
  
****And thank you Thalia for all the wonderful adjectives! (  
  
________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"Now, now girl, stop crying. It's not so bad." Madame Pomfrey tutted gently as she examined Lavender's face. "Ms. Granger took the brunt of it I think."  
  
Hermione was worriedly sitting on the bed next to Lavender. "Will she be all right? I can't believe I was so stupid to do that."  
  
Madame Pomfrey began to tenderly dab a little bit of some dark blue cream onto Lavender's face. "There now, all better. You only got burned a little bit. It will all be cleared up by lunch. You, on the other hand," she said turning to Hermione, "you need to keep these bandages on until tomorrow morning."  
  
Hermione looked crestfallen, "that long? But I have homework to do."  
  
Madame Pomfrey gave Hermione a penetrating gaze; it was unusual to have students complain about not being able to do their homework. "I'm sure you'll make do." She said finally after deciding that Hermione was not, in fact, pulling her leg.  
  
Hermione turned to Lavender again, "are you all right? I'm really very sorry."  
  
Lavender, who had finally managed to stop crying, looked at her with wet, red eyes and said in a shaky voice, "it's all right Hermione. I'm the one that tripped into you."  
  
"I know, but Snape was right, I shouldn't have been measuring the lotus root over my cauldron. I know better than that."  
  
And she did know better than that. Hermione knew all the safety rules when it came to Potions. And measuring your ingredients away from heat was foremost on the list. But she had been distracted, had been distracted ever since she had come into the classroom. Ever since she had let him catch her eyes, and then it was too late, he had her. Hermione had spent the rest of the class with faintly flushed cheeks, shaky hands, and what felt like a thousands butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.  
  
She couldn't be sure, but Hermione could swear that someone was watching her throughout most of the class, and she could easily guess who that person might have been. But Hermione hadn't dared turn around to see. For as long as she didn't look, she wouldn't know for certain. And not knowing seemed much safer than the possibility that Draco Malfoy was watching her, and remembering.  
  
"Well I'm done with the two of you." Madame Pomfrey's voice pulled Hermione out of her internal ponderings and back into the hospital wing. "Now you remember what I said, Ms. Granger, you keep those bandages on. You needed more ointment than Ms. Brown did and it won't sink in if it's exposed to air."  
  
Hermione nodded wordlessly and stood up. She looked at her hands; they were covered in thick white wrappings. Things always seemed to happen to her hands. It was as if fate knew that the only true torture for Hermione was to somehow keep her from doing her class work. And as she gingerly tried flexing her fingers, Hermione knew that there wasn't any way she'd be writing tonight. Even without the encompassing weight of the bandages, moving her stiff fingers caused more pain than she would care to repeat.  
  
  
  
Lavender and Hermione parted ways at the stairwell above the entrance hall. Lavender was intending on using her afternoon off to mix together some of her Mavis' Magical Makeup with a bit of Hannah Abbot's muggle blush, supposedly this created quite an interesting combination that Parvarti swore could be seen from almost a kilometer away. Hermione personally couldn't understand why you would want to glow like a traffic light, but she was getting along with Lavender far too well to actually say so. Hermione did politely refuse the makeover that Lavender eagerly offered and decided to take a walk around the lake instead.  
  
A light spring breeze drifted across the crystalline water of the lake and Hermione was pleased that it wasn't cold. In only a few short months they would be taking their OWLS. Hermione grimaced, she could be using this time to study for them, but no, she had to go and blow up a cauldron.  
  
Hermione stopped near the edge of the lake; the Forbidden Forest was once again encroaching on the path that traced the bank. She had read in Hogwarts: A History that every few years magic had to be used to drive back the forest. The trees themselves seemed to have a mind of their own and sometimes appeared to want to devour the school. Hermione shivered as the sun passed behind a cloud leaving an ominous shadow reaching for her from the dark trees. And quite suddenly, Hermione knew that she was being watched.  
  
She spun around but there was no one there. The feeling still lingered however, the icy absolute belief that someone was staring at her. The feeling was so intense, and the intensity was familiar.  
  
"Draco?" She called out softly, her voice traveling farther than she had meant it too.  
  
Hermione continued to nervously scan the woods. Her eyes fell upon a splash of sinister movement deep in the canopy of green. For a moment she thought she saw a figure.  
  
"'ermione?"  
  
Hermione cried out and whirled back around as Hagrid's voice rumbled to her. Hagrid was walking along the path.  
  
"Hagrid, there's someone…" But Hermione's voice trailed off as she looked back into the forested gloom. There wasn't anyone there. "I thought I saw…" Hermione frowned bewilderedly.  
  
"Why are'n yeh in class?" Hagrid asked coming to stand next to Hermione.  
  
The sun escaped from behind the passing clouds and once again, the path was blanketed in the warm spring light. The portentous trees seemed to have almost recoiled under the lash of sunlight and Hermione's feeling of being watched had all but vanished. She gave the suspicious thicket one last glance before turning to Hagrid, who was waiting for an answer. In response, Hermione held up her bandaged hands.  
  
"Wha' happened? Did Neville blow up a cauldron again?"  
  
"No," Hermione said glumly, "I did."  
  
Hagrid choked back a chuckle and said in a commiserating voice, "well, tha' happens e'en to the best of us."  
  
"I can't even do my homework," Hermione muttered morosely, feeling rather sorry for herself as she suddenly found that one of her hands had become immensely itchy.  
  
"Well yeh can come and 'elp me then. Don' worry, yeh won' be needin' yer hands." Hagrid grinned toothily. "Just got me some bimestris in today. And I'm havin' a hard time keepin' calm while I unpack 'em."  
  
Hermione walked along with Hagrid, glad to have something to do, and relieved to be no longer walking alone.  
  
She had never heard of a bimestris' before, which was never a good sign since Hermione had a rather expansive knowledge of magical creatures and Hagrid had been known to have a fondness for illegal class subjects. The feeling of foreboding grew as they approached his clearing and a shrill sound could be heard. Upon reaching the hut, the noise was almost unbearable, it seemed like a thousand tiny voices were squealing in terror. However, her unease all but disappeared when she saw just what Hagrid was talking about. Inside several open crates near his door, were very small, different colored, furry animals. The animals themselves, which were no bigger than the palm of Hermione's hand were squealing in fright and scrabbling over each other in a rush to get to nowhere. A few of the furry little beasts paused their frantic struggle and looked up at Hermione with undisguised interest, their pink noses twitching, before giving back into their fit of fright and rejoined the fray.  
  
"Hagrid," Hermione asked smiling, "what do they do?"  
  
"Well, when they aren' bein so skittish, they do all sorts of things." Hagrid reached his hand down to one of them and like a school of fish they all sheared off just out reach. "They're generally used to get rid of weeds in wizards' gardens. Yeh see, they love to munch on fresh grass and such, but they 'lways seem to know which plants not to touch." Hagrid smiled affectionately at the scurrying little things. "Oh, 'nd since yeh c' see how skittish they are, yeh hardly ever see 'em. Yeh could put 'bou a hundred of 'em into Professor Sprout's greenhouse and n'ver see a single one. They're kinda like house elves in that respect."  
  
"Well I think it's wrong for everyone to expect the house-elves to stay out of sight. Of course, that's probably how most people have been able to overlook the cruel conditions that a house elf lives under in the wizarding society. Out of sight out of…"  
  
"'ermione," Hagrid said gently, "you're upsettin' the bimestris."  
  
Hermione broke off her rant and glanced back down into the crate and found that the little furry rodents were now even more frantic than they had been a moment before. "Oh I'm sorry," she said quickly to Hagrid, "I hadn't meant to frighten them. How do we calm them down?"  
  
"Well, they 'lways seem t' like a good hum."  
  
"A what?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A hum, they like humming. But no' mine fer some reason." Hagrid's grin momentarily faded over this. "But I think they migh' like yers."  
  
Hermione glanced at the bimestris and then back at Hagrid, "what should I hum?"  
  
"Eny ol' tun'll work."  
  
She furrowed her brow and tried to think of a song. Being suddenly put on the spot had momentarily wiped all songs from her head. Hermione took a breath and finally began to hum a slow melodic tune. A song that she couldn't quite remember the words to, although looking back on it, Hermione would have remembered that it was the same tune that she danced to so very long ago out in the garden when the snow was still falling.  
  
One by one, the bimestris took notice of the gentle humming and they began to sway slowly along with the sound, allowing Hagrid the opportunity to reach down and pluck them up. He examined their fur and their eyes and gave each one a smart tap on the nose, which made the bimestris squirm, squeal, and then finally sneeze a fine dust that sparkled as it dispersed in the air. Then Hagrid kindly deposited each one into a large hutch that was waiting nearby.  
  
Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon keeping the bimestris distracted while Hagrid went through this process again and again until each and every single one had been examined and then put into their new home. When they were finished, Hermione bid her adieus and walked back up to the school. With her heart fairly light and her mood mild. Even if she couldn't do her homework, she had still been helpful to a teacher and that always made Hermione happy. She had just reached the door when she felt the urge to glance back over her shoulder. There, at the edge of the forest, stood a figure. Hermione squinted her eyes against the setting sun, trying to see if it was Hagrid, but the figure was gone back into the darkness before she had a chance. Hermione stood nervously, watching for a moment longer before continuing on into the school.  
  
  
  
A gust of wind blew the portrait shut behind her and Hermione flinched, she couldn't explain it, she did not consider herself to be a high-strung person. Well, yes, maybe when it came to her studies, that was all though. But Hermione had felt as if she had been walking on eggshells all day. The halls of the school had seemed strangely deserted when she returned from Hagrid's hut earlier that afternoon. The bright sun couldn't seem to penetrate the inner halls of the school. The normally dazzling fires and cheery candles only served to spread deep shadows that reached hungry fingers towards Hermione.  
  
There was a creak behind her and Hermione held her breath. A hand came down on her shoulder and she felt something wild and panicky come to life inside of her. Hermione spun around and struck out as hard as she could. There was an exclamation and the hand fell away.  
  
Fred stumbled away from Hermione, grasping his side where Hermione had just punched him. George stood behind him in the portrait hole, staring with open shock.  
  
"Ow Hermione!" Fred grumbled, "what was that for?"  
  
"Fred?" Hermione seemed to be having trouble catching up with the moment. "Oh goodness, Fred. I'm so sorry." Hermione stepped towards him.  
  
George had started to snicker. Hermione and Fred both glared at him but he only began to laugh harder. "That's what you get, Fred!" He said in gasps, "I told you not to go around, sneaking up on the girls. It might be okay for those Hufflepuffs you were so taken with earlier, but our Gryffindor girls are a whole other class."  
  
"Shut up George," Fred exclaimed mildly, some of the color returning to his face.  
  
"I'm so sorry Fred, I didn't know it was you. I thought…I don't know what I thought." Hermione felt just awful, she didn't consider herself to be a violent person either.  
  
The portrait hole opened again, Ron and Harry climbed through, laboring over a large stack of books that they had taken out from the library for their Charms homework.  
  
"What's so funny?" Ron asked cautiously.  
  
"Nothing!" Fred interjected.  
  
"Why are you holding your side like that?" Harry wondered as Fred grimaced.  
  
"Nothing," George agreed, "Fred just found out that our Hermione is going to grow up to be a boxer for the national British circuit."  
  
Hermione blushed as Harry and Ron turned to look her. "Well he did sneak up on me." She said contritely.  
  
"It's all right Hermione, I'll forgive you, in time. Maybe after a long, painful recovery, I'll be able to find the strength to look past this slight and…" Fred broke off as Hermione glowered at him. He suddenly fell to his knees, clasping his hands together in front of his chest; he crawled towards her, "please don't hit me again Hermione. I'll do anything! Please." Fred begged.  
  
"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione turned her back on the four boys who were now howling with laughter and walked back out through the portrait hole. She was almost to the library when Hermione realized that she had meant to go to her dorm room before her friends had waylaid her.  
  
  
  
Whispering voices echoed off of the voluminous stacks of books and Hermione breathed in deeply, air that wasn't quite stale, but certainly old. She loved it, the smell of books and bindings, the quiet of so many students intent on learning, even old Madame Pince, with her officious glare always felt like a welcome to Hermione.  
  
The little room was empty, but she hadn't expected Draco to be there anyway. It was oddly comforting to not have him here. She could sit and do work and not have to worry about him. Not that she could do anything with her bandages on. Hermione sat down glumly. Her brow crinkled as she stared bleakly at a stack of books. She fought back a yawn; Hermione hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, what with Draco and all.  
  
Draco, Hermione sighed dreamily, he plagued her thoughts constantly. She knew that it was ridiculous to let herself feel something for him. He was a Slytherin, and she was a Gryffindor. He was as pureblooded as a wizard could come and she was just a lowly muggle-born. Her friends hated him, and he seemed to revel in their loathing. Hermione knew all the reason why she couldn't fall for Draco Malfoy. Her methodical mind always saw the truth, but no matter what her mind told her, Hermione couldn't fight down the intense happiness she felt when Draco would look at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. When his smirk would fade into a gentle smile. Or the pleasure she felt when he would brush her hair back from her face. Or the peculiar tingling that she felt when he touched her.  
  
Hermione groaned and buried the memories as far back in her head as she could. Forcing herself to think of anything other than Draco, her mind stumbled back upon her earlier unease by the lake, and then the continued discomfort that she had felt while walking through the halls. Even after all of the terrible things that had happened to Harry inside of Hogwarts and the surrounding grounds, Hermione still believed Hogwarts to be one of the safest places in all of England, and yet a trace of her fear still lingered on the periphery of her subconscious. That absolute knowledge that someone had been watching her by the lake had frightened her. Had there really been someone there?  
  
The fire in the grate snapped and Hermione jumped. "This is ridiculous!" She snapped out loud, the sound a relief in the all too silent room.  
  
Hermione began to furiously tug at her bandages, finally managing to untangle one end. She began to carefully unwrap her damaged hands, she didn't care that they were supposed to stay wrapped for at least another hour, she had to find something to occupy her mind. Her hands were raw and red looking, but there weren't any open sores. Hermione flexed them a few times trying to relieve the stiffness and then tentatively picked up a quill and held it loosely, testing it. Her fingers twitched with a spasm of pain and Hermione gritted her teeth, determined to force her hand to do what she wanted it to do. For a few minutes, Hermione didn't think she would be able to do it, but Gryffindors are tenacious and after awhile, the sharp pain emanating from her fingers subsided and she threw herself into the work.  
  
They had been progressing nicely, Draco and her, but in the past month since they had discovered the spell books, they had focused on little else than interpreting and then testing each spell that they found. The other books had been neglected, and with the school year more than half over already, Hermione worried that they might not finish. Professor Vector had never said whether she expected all the work to be completed by the end of term. Hermione wondered if maybe they could work on it over the summer. She tried to imagine herself sitting with Draco at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor scrutinizing some ancient text written in Latin and then transcribed into an Arithmantic code. It almost seemed like a date. Hermione grinned wryly to herself.  
  
Another thought occurred to her then, what was Draco going to do over the summer? If he wasn't speaking to his father, and if Lucius was so dangerous, was he going back to the Manor? Maybe he had some relative somewhere that would take him in. Hermione didn't think Draco would be very happy over the idea of 'being taken in' and she also doubted whether there was a relation that Lucius Malfoy couldn't control. Hermione didn't even consider Draco's mother. She had little doubt that the story of some grand illness was all just a farce to upset Draco.  
  
Sighing, Hermione cleared a space on the table on then went to fetch some of the long neglected tomes. She pushed one crate over towards the table with the tip of her toe, not wanting to use her hands any more than she had to. Her face flushed pink with exertion and Hermione strained harder in order to move the large box. There was a creaking noise, and the old wood that made up crate gave way and Hermione stumbled and fell into a pile of boxes.  
  
She lay stunned for a moment not believing the horrendous luck that she was having today. A thick cloud of dust had risen when she landed and now it was settling back over everything, causing Hermione, who was not a good conductor for dust, to sneeze.  
  
"I should just go back to my room and go to bed!" Hermione grumbled crossly under her breath.  
  
She got to her feet and began to carefully restack the books that she had fallen into. Turning back to the box that had been her downfall, literally, she noticed that just poking through the hole she had created was a thin and very fragile looking piece of folded up parchment.  
  
Hermione was so use to looking at Arithmancy codes and Latin translations now that it took her a moment to recognize English. It was old English of course, but Hermione would pick it over Latin any day. The paper turned out to be a letter written in the same scratchy style that O'Leary used.  
  
My Dear McKenna,  
  
I know not where to begin. It has been such a long time since I have seen the waters that surround our old homestead, and I fear that it might be longer still before I return. I wish not to alarm you, only to pray that you'll remember me to my young nieces and nephew. Our resistance has been futile thus far. I know that every able-bodied wizard must help fight back this plague, but you know that I was never one to battle.  
  
I have killed, my dear sister, killed one of the dark ones. He was looking for me, he knew of my home in the forest, and of my work. I could not allow him to tell the others of our plans. Only, I had not meant to kill him, I swear to you I had not. I had only meant to stun, the spell I had made was only meant to stun. But I was so angry, and hate-filled, and the spell took a life all it own. And when the putrid green light had faded, I wished that I had never joined this fray, that I had never taken a wand into my hand even.  
  
Morson was there when it happened; he was a witness to my sin. But he rejoiced in the act. He pleasured in the horror left apparent in the dead man's eyes. And then, I'm ashamed to admit it, I taught him how. And he taught the others. We dealt a great blow to the ministry. There was much rejoicing amongst my friends, but how can anything good come from so much death?  
  
I wish only to come home now, I wish only to relinquish this ill-forsaken quest of righteousness and come back. But I fear that this is not possible, that this will never again be possible.  
  
The letter ended abruptly and Hermione set it back where she had found it with shaking hands, wishing that it had remained hidden. Turning, Hermione let her eyes traipse over the rest of the collection. A look of nauseous determination came into her eyes, and Hermione threw herself into the old spell books with abandon, looking for what she hoped wouldn't be there. But it was.  
  
  
  
It was well after curfew when the door creaked open again. Hermione didn't move at all. Draco slipped into the room not noticing her immediately. Setting his bag to one side he looked up, seeing her finally.  
  
"What's wrong? Do your hands still hurt?" He asked her, noticing her odd behavior.  
  
She raised her eyes to meet his and he could tell that she had been crying, there was a rosy hint to her face and she sniffled.  
  
"He did it," she whispered.  
  
"What?" Draco stepped to her and gently touched her cheek, "Who did what?"  
  
"I found it, in the books, that one there," Hermione pointed to a book at the far end of the table. It was bound in an old, nondescript binding. She was sitting in the farthest chair from the table, eyeing the book with a look of queasy disbelief.  
  
"Hermione," Draco kneeled in front of her and turned her head to look at him, "what did you find?"  
  
Her eyes began to mist with tears again and her voice sounded painfully fragile, "I found Aveda Kedavra."  
  
  
  
_____________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter. Please Read & Review! 


	24. Mounting Coincidences

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Okay, here it is…. A new chapter. Woo-Hoo….I'm excited. Well the way things are looking; I might actually finish this fic in about three chapters. I know I can't believe it either. I just want to say thanks to Vegeta (my beta-reader) who I very impatiently called on his cell phone to demand that he go home and read this new chapter right away because he isn't allowed to have a life. And also to Kenzie, alleycat739, and terentia whom have all shown quite an interest in my fic. (  
  
________________________________________________  
  
  
  
  
  
Reading it again didn't help. The spell was right here, even the research that he did which led up to it was here for all the world to see. The methodical mind of a genius spell crafter was displayed in all it's glory across the antique pages of the dirty little book that Hermione had uncovered. Not that Draco was very concerned with who had or had not created the killing curse. Someone had to eventually, and if hadn't been O'Leary, then it would have been someone else. No, what Draco found disturbing was the way that the young brown haired girl who looked so much like Hermione sat at the far end of the room. But it wasn't his Hermione who sat without looking at anything at all, who sat like someone that had been exposed to dementors for a long period of time. Hermione wasn't empty.  
  
Draco had gone to Azkaban once, back in his third year. It had somehow leaked back to Lucius how frightened Draco had been of the dementors that guarded the school. Lucius had always believed that the best way to surmount a fear, if one allowed himself to have a fear, was to confront it. So over the Christmas holiday, Draco and Lucius had traveled to the wizarding prison to ground out his fear. There had been no pity in him for the prisoners there, and why should there have been? If they were so incompetent that they allowed themselves to be caught then they deserved whatever the Dementors had in store for them. In fact, it was the last time Draco could remember feeling a rush of pride for Lucius. The man had avoided imprisonment and was now a respected member of the community; Draco could appreciate the man's ability for avoiding trouble.  
  
"Hermione?" Draco asked.  
  
The girl didn't move, didn't acknowledge that he had even spoken. Draco scowled; he hated being ignored.  
  
"Oh come on Granger," he drawled, "it's not the end of the world. So the old coot created the killing curse. Big deal! But you look like someone just told you your cat died."  
  
Hermione flinched and Draco took that as a promising sign and continued. "It isn't as if our old hermit is a super villain. Bloody hell, in the book I've been translating all he does is go on and on about repentance this and salvation that. I've read pages upon pages of this self-loathing diatribe. If I had created such a powerful spell, I wouldn't be ashamed of it. I would be proud."  
  
"I'll bet you would too."  
  
It was the first time she had spoken in almost an hour and Draco had to fight against the superior smirked that wanted to break across his face. Hermione had turned in her seat now and was glaring at him.  
  
"I'm sure that you'd love to lay claim to a curse that has killed countless thousands." Her voice was sharp, cutting. And Draco found the pleasure of his success quickly dwindling.  
  
"It's not the curse itself you know, it's the wizards who use it." Draco responded with equal bite.  
  
"Oh of course, the curse itself isn't to blame. In fact, we shouldn't even call it the killing curse should we? No, how about we call it the harmless fluffy bunny curse; use it at parties, amaze all your friends!" Hermione stood up and jerked her bag onto her shoulder with a furious flourish. She headed to the door and then stopped to shoot back over her shoulder at him, "I'm sure that Harry would find it very comforting to know that his parents weren't really murdered by that spell!"  
  
Draco was up and across the room with amazing speed. He slammed the door shut before Hermione could get past him and turned to her, his hand pressed firmly against the door, his face only inches from her own. "First off," he hissed angrily, "I don't give a damn about perfect, wonderful, glorious Potter!"  
  
Hermione recoiled and Draco's tone softened as he continued, "and he would have just found another way. If Voldemort didn't have Avada Kedavra, he would have just used some other spell. You know that, don't you? It isn't as if Tom Riddle would have grown up to be your average, all around nice guy if O'Leary hadn't created that spell."  
  
"I know that," she whispered softly, "but that doesn't make it any better." Hermione then placed a pale hand on his shoulder, gently pushed him aside, and left the room.  
  
  
  
Draco wandered the halls aimlessly, his mind elsewhere. He chuckled gutturally to himself. "Who would have thought it?" He muttered in the noiseless walkway. He was still reveling over the knowledge that the person whose work he had spent most of the school year interpreting, translating, and transcribing, was the author of such a well-known curse. Draco never would have given old Gregorius so much credit.  
  
Draco wasn't thrilled over how upset Hermione had gotten when she discovered it, but then, she was a bit on the self-righteous side. And Draco didn't doubt that she would be able to get past it.  
  
He grinned at nothing in particular, now that he was away from Hermione and not being biased by her obvious distaste for anything having to do with the dark arts, Draco was finding the whole thing rather amusing. And O'Leary had suddenly become much more interesting.  
  
Footsteps could now be heard coming up the corridor from behind and Draco turned to look back, thinking for a minute that maybe Hermione had calmed down a bit. But it turned out to only be Goyle. Draco stopped and waited for the other boy, telling himself firmly that he wasn't disappointed that it was Goyle and not Hermione. But the lie became more flimsy every time he used it, which seemed to be an awful lot now a days.  
  
"Draco," Goyle said after taking a moment to catch his breath, "Draco, a letter's come, from your father. Pansy said that you'd want to know."  
  
Draco nodded mutely and headed back the way Goyle had appeared, not waiting for the other Slytherin who was clutching a pain in his side, exhausted from the obvious exertion of climbing a nearby flight of stairs.  
  
So Lucius had responded to Draco's letter. Not that Draco had really doubted that the older man wouldn't, but it surely wouldn't have been out of character for Lucius to bait him with news of his mother and then deny him any further knowledge.  
  
The common room was, as usual, dark. Even though a fire burned heartily in the great, the light did little to brighten the corners where most people were sitting talking quietly amongst themselves. It wasn't that all Slytherins were up to dark deeds. But they were picked for this house due to their zeal for ambition and their ability to succeed under almost any circumstances. To the other houses Slytherins put up quite a united front, but in their own common room, most of them fell to in fighting. Draco had always enjoyed it. The furtive glances and whispered secrets. A good ear for listening and the ability to hold one's tongue until the proper opportunity arrived were great skills to have. And Draco had been trained well for it.  
  
The letter lay, unopened, on the table next to his bed. He knew that it hadn't been tampered with. Draco didn't even need to look closely to know this. No one would ever attempt to pry into a letter from Lucius. Some one else, an old friend, another relative, even his mother's letters wouldn't have been entirely safe from the untrustworthy curiousness of his fellow housemates; but never, ever Lucius' letters.  
  
Draco,  
  
I'm glad that you have finally come to your senses. Your mother did not even want to tell you of her poor health knowing that you would probably leave school to come see her. And she was always so determined that you would attend Hogwarts just like we did. I have been unable to tell her of your disgrace of us though. I do not think she could handle such painful news as that of her son and only child abandoning his family to follow the idiotic ideals of some unimportant Headmaster.  
  
  
  
But the point of this letter is not to berate you for your shortcomings as tempting as it may be. I have recently spoken to the doctors at St. Mungo's. They believe that your mother has a rare case of Tiberian influenza that she must have picked up while she was abroad over the summer. There isn't any known magical treatment because in almost all cases, this disease is only a minor ailment and the wizard in question is able to recover easily on their own. Your mother, however, has contracted a very virulent case and her frail constitution does not bode well for her recovery.  
  
  
  
I do not want you coming to see her. In her condition, a visit from you might deplete her remaining bastion of strength, and I will not allow that. If I feel that she is soon to be leaving us, I will send for you.  
  
  
  
Father  
  
  
  
Draco read the letter again, his brow furrowing in an expression that  
  
seemed torn between anger and anguish. Lucius had to be toying with him, didn't he? Draco didn't think that Lucius would lie about his mother, but then Draco wasn't entirely sure. Slipping the letter into his pocket, Draco left his room. He decided to prowl the school in hopes that something would click together in his mind, that something would suddenly leap out of the letter as he read it again and again in the dark halls that would tell him once and for all whether Lucius was lying or not. But as with the last letter, there was nothing out of place.  
  
  
  
He had just passed over the great hall for the second time in his rounds about the school when a voice called out his name. Turning, he saw Hermione walking quickly to him, slipping through a group of first and second year Hufflepuffs who were looking between Hermione and him with undisguised interest.  
  
Draco swiftly stowed his letter away again and feeling like she had caught him doing something nasty and went on the defensive. "What do you want Granger?"  
  
Hermione looked taken aback by his drawl but still proceeded up to him. "Well you're in a sour mood," she said lightly as if forgetting how moody she had been only a few hours earlier.  
  
Draco ignored this and turned to the small collective of Hufflepuffs who were still waiting, obviously fishing for an interesting piece of gossip to spread around. "Can I help you with something?" He asked them in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms disapprovingly but the younger students all seemed to take Draco's underlying threat for face value and immediately dispersed in different directions, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in the hall.  
  
"Like I asked before," Draco said icily to Hermione once again, "what do you want?"  
  
"Oh really Draco, stop being a prat." Hermione replied primly. "I've been looking all over for you, to tell you the truth."  
  
"Oh?" Draco asked smartly, "are my charms really that hard to resist? Honestly, I had no idea."  
  
Draco had begun walking once the other students had left and Hermione hurried to keep up with him. She was obviously not to be put off.  
  
"There was something that you said in the library, something that has got me thinking."  
  
"You? Thinking? Never." Draco smirked as Hermione glared at him.  
  
"It was what you said, about the book you're working on now in your dorm." Hermione pressed doggedly on despite Draco's apparent ill mood. "You said something about salvation, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah." Draco quickened his gait, as a few more students appeared around the corner of one corridor.  
  
"Well what if he was serious about it?"  
  
"Serious about what?" Draco was becoming incredibly annoyed with Hermione, she was persistently tailing him and there were people watching.  
  
In exasperation Hermione grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him backward. Draco stumbled and then turned to glare at her.  
  
"He felt guilty about creating that curse," Hermione spoke quickly now that she had his full, if somewhat furious attention. "What if he did something about?"  
  
"What are you suggesting?"  
  
"I'm not sure, maybe a counter curse?" Hermione's voice had dropped remarkably and Draco could barely hear her.  
  
"There isn't a counter curse. Everyone knows that." Draco crossed his arms in a manner that mirrored her favorite look of disapproval.  
  
"But what if there is?" Hermione whispered breathlessly, "what if he was so guilt-ridden over what he had done that he created some sort of defense, something to stop…"  
  
"There isn't a counter-curse Granger. It's impossible, the curse itself it too strong. And O'Leary is too much an enfeebled old man to make one even if it was possible." Draco interrupted.  
  
"You didn't seem to think he was that he was so enfeebled a few hours ago when you virtually praising him for creating Avada Kedavra!" Her voice had risen sharply.  
  
Several passing students gasped and defensively cringed backwards when she said the infamous curse. Draco grabbed her arm furiously and pulled her along with him down a flight of stairs, through a deserted corridor, before roughly pushing her into a dark alcove.  
  
"Are you trying to get into trouble?" His angry hiss was low.  
  
"It can't hurt to look, can it? We know that he had the capability to do it."  
  
"We wouldn't even know where to begin." He muttered trying to dissuade Hermione.  
  
"Well we would have an idea as to where to look." She said quickly, making Draco regret that he had given her a window.  
  
He slouched against the wall of the alcove and surveyed the empty hallway. "And where would we looking?"  
  
"He kept everything organized and dated. And the journal with the spell in it is one of the last ones, there are only a few more after that. So we know that if he had made a counter curse, then it would be in one of the few remaining books." Hermione had begun pacing back and forth from the nook to the opposite wall and back again. "I think that starting with the volume you have would be the best one to start with."  
  
"This is ridiculous." Draco grumbled darkly.  
  
Hermione turned and looked back at him. He wanted nothing more right now than to turn and walk away, to leave her and her insane hopes there in that hallway. He didn't want to spend any more time trapped in that room with her, thinking those thoughts that he always thought when she was near him. But Draco met her eyes, those soft cinnamon eyes had caught him again and Draco knew he would do what she asked.  
  
"Please," Hermione stepped to him and lightly touched his shoulder, "please help me Draco."  
  
Draco sighed, unable to look away from her desperately pleading eyes. "I'll go get the book."  
  
  
  
"This is pointless, you realize this, right?" Draco snapped the book closed and turned to glower at Hermione.  
  
"It is not pointless if we find something useful." She responded primly.  
  
"Right, like after five hundred years or so, a couple of rival Hogwarts' students are going to stumble across the key to saving the world from the great evil threat. I've never been one for fairy tales." Draco stretched languidly and smirked as he suddenly thought of how he'd really like to be spending his time with Hermione at the moment.  
  
"Have you always been this optimistic or is it just the weather?" Hermione glowered at him.  
  
Draco opened his book again and picked up where he had left off. Hermione continued to glare at him a moment longer as if to make sure that he really was going to help before returning to her own text.  
  
He had been reading for a while now, the sun had set long ago and the library was going to be closed soon. Hermione was still sitting across from him; the pile of books that surrounded her had grown. He had fallen to watching her read. It was amusing to him how she always bite her lip when she came upon something interesting. Or absentmindedly pull on a strand of dark brown hair that framed her face. She was resting her chin in the palm of one hand and then, as he watched, she sighed and switched to her other hand. Draco observed as she flinched slightly as her chin settled into the palm of her other hand. She began to flex the fingers of the now unused hand. He felt a strange gentleness overcome as he remembered the accident earlier that day.  
  
Hermione glanced up and smiled slightly. But having her look at him so trustingly reminded him of how close he had allowed himself to get to her. He remembered in Potions, how he had been so quick to defend her. How he had joined, of all people, the blasted Gryffindors in trying to get her out of trouble. As if the rumor mill wasn't bad enough already. He had to go and add more fuel. And for what purpose? For some brown haired girl that made him lose his breath? Draco couldn't believe that he had allowed lust to control him so much. But even as he thought about it, lust didn't seem like the culprit.  
  
"Something wrong?" She asked, breaking his train of thought.  
  
Draco refocused on Hermione and was almost surprised to realize that he was scowling at her.  
  
"I'm just sick to death of sitting in here." He snapped.  
  
"Well if that's the way you feel, why don't you just leave already?" She was as quick to temper as he was.  
  
Draco didn't say another word to her. He gathered his things and left the library, not in a storming rage, which seemed to be her favorite exit, but with a calm stroll. As if he had nothing better to do with his time than make sure that everyone he passed had proper time in which to admire him.  
  
He made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons slowly. He didn't know why he had been so disagreeable with her. They hadn't even been fighting. Draco supposed it was just nerves. There was his mother and Lucius, the school and it's gossip, his Malfoy image, and of course there was her. Hermione who was still in the library trying to find a spell that wasn't there, trying to find some ancient miracle that had somehow gone unnoticed for centuries.  
  
The dorm room was vacant. Draco threw himself into a deep armchair that sat next to the fire. He had borrowed it from the common room one evening.  
  
She was so naïve, Draco could barely stand it sometimes. Hermione would look for the best in everything. She was out of touch with reality. The poor girl actually thought that good would always vanquish evil, that Potter would always win, and that Voldemort would get what he deserved. But Draco knew better. Draco knew that the world didn't revolve around the hopes of some innocent young girl. Voldemort was too powerful to be stopped, and good rarely won.  
  
Draco pulled a book from his bag and carelessly jerked it open. She would sit up there long into the night studying till her eyes hurt just because some idealistic fool created one of the most powerful spells ever known. He started to flip through the creaking pages as he thought. And what was she expecting anyway? To just open any old book and find it? Even if there was a spell, which Draco highly doubted there was, the likely hood of them stumbling upon was highly unlikely.  
  
And then Draco looked down. He looked at the book in his hands, at the page he had stopped at. And then he really looked at it. His mouth fell open and he mouthed wordlessly for a moment or two.  
  
"Oh bloody hell," he muttered finally, "how coincidental is that?"  
  
  
  
__________________________________________________  
  
*There will be another chapter, please READ&REVIEW!!! 


	25. Thick and Thin

***Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***I'm back…. La la la la… Anyhoo, I actually wrote this entire chapter, proofread, sent it off to my beta reader all this past Saturday. I was uber motivated for some reason. Don't expect the next ones to come out so soon though, it'll probably be another week/week and half.  
  
________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Hermione clambered through the portrait as quietly as she could. She was surprised to find a small fire still burning in the common room. At such a late hour most students were in bed. But the scratch of a quill could be heard and Hermione smiled when she saw whom it was.  
  
"Ron," she called out softly.  
  
The redhead glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. He was sitting at a parchment-strewn table; his Charms book lay open before him. There was also a plate of sandwiches near his arm.  
  
"Hullo Hermione, how're your hands?"  
  
"Better I think," Hermione lifted them so that he could examine them in the firelight. "Hungry?" She asked nodding her head at the plate.  
  
"Those are for you, since you didn't come to lunch or supper. Harry and I figured that you might be hungry if you ever came out of the library." Ron turned back to his homework and sighed glumly.  
  
Hermione settled herself in the chair next to him and started to pick through the stack of sandwiches, searching.  
  
"The cheese sandwiches are on the left side, I told Harry that you only liked cheese, but Fred and George convinced him that you had a secret love of tuna and pickles. Honestly, I wonder about Harry sometimes, he's so gullible."  
  
"Thanks Ron," Hermione exclaimed gratefully as she set down yet another tuna and pickle sandwich and found a nice safe cheese one. "I hadn't meant to miss dinner, just got distracted."  
  
Ron looked back at his Charms book like it had suddenly become the most interesting piece of literature ever written. "Malfoy again?" He asked quietly without glancing at her.  
  
Hermione stopped chewing and looked at Ron hard, he had gone remarkably still and was trying very hard to sound casual. "No, just some schoolwork, the project for Arithmancy."  
  
"Look Hermione," Ron started but Hermione interrupted.  
  
"Ron, I don't want to fight, please I'm tired."  
  
"Do you think that's all I want to do is fight?" Ron looked at her now and his eyes flashed furiously for a moment. He took a deep breath and continued, "I just wanted to say that, well that…" He stopped again and looked back down at his book, "Harry and I, we don't understand what you see in that ruddy git but well…" Ron swallowed hard, "Bill says that girls do very silly things and that we shouldn't worry too much about it."  
  
Hermione found herself trying to decide whether she should be mad or irate. She stood up and set the rest of her sandwich down.  
  
"Now Hermione, don't take it like that!" Ron stood up and caught her arm, pulling her back. "Look, you know I'm not good at this, I should have kept Ginny up so that she could explain for me."  
  
Hermione sat back down and crossed her arms, glaring at him.  
  
"I just meant that, well, we might not understand what you see in that," Ron paused when Hermione's glare darkened, "in Malfoy, but we're still your friends. It's important that you know that. Through thick and thin, right?" He studied her face for a minute, unsure of what she was thinking.  
  
Hermione sat stunned for a moment while Ron watched her fearfully. She stood up slowly and Ron stepped backwards, almost afraid that she might throw something at him. He was quite right in that thought, of course, as Hermione threw her arms around him and burst into tears.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron asked anxiously as she pressed her wet face into his chest.  
  
"You and Harry," she said in a shaky voice, "are my best friends in the world. I love you two so much." Her voice cracked and she sniffed.  
  
Ron pat her back awkwardly, the tips of his ears beginning to turn red, "oh c'mon Hermione, it's all right. We love you too." He said hopefully trying to console her, but this only made Hermione cry harder. "Wait, he hasn't done anything? Has he?"  
  
Hermione looked up bleary-eyed at the obviously hopeful tone that Ron's voice had taken.  
  
"N...not that I want him to have done anything, of course. It's just that, well, whenever Harry and I can go beat him up, just let us know, okay?" Ron added quickly.  
  
Hermione laughed and let go of Ron who looked remarkably relieved to not have a crying girl wrapped around him. "I'll let you know." She said delicately.  
  
"You know, he stood up for you, in Potions, to Snape." Ron mumbled, obviously not happy to say anything positive about Malfoy.  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise.  
  
"Yeah, he did."  
  
  
  
Hermione sat solemnly at their table in Charms and looked forlornly at the open page. They were learning binding charms today, and Hermione had been looking forward to them. But now that Professor Flitwick was happily moving in between tables correcting hand movements and pronunciation Hermione had found her interest quickly dwindling.  
  
"No Harry, you're doing it the wrong way," Hermione stretched her hand across the table and seized Harry's wrist and twisted it slightly down, "now try it again, but this time try to speak from deep in your chest. There you go, like that."  
  
Ron and Harry continued to work on the spell now that Hermione had helped them. She had studied the spell outside of class and had no problems binding the objects together that Professor Flitwick had handed out. He had even used her teddy bear with an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages perfectly centered in the middle of it as an example of a successful combination. Both Ron and Harry had complained about the destruction of such a good book.  
  
No, Hermione had been disappointed when Draco hadn't shown up to breakfast. She had been unsuccessful in finding anything that even remotely resembled a counter-curse. All she had found were pages upon pages of soul- searching. Draco was right, after a while, the self-righteous misery had gotten a little hard to swallow.  
  
Hermione had hoped that perhaps Draco had had better luck than her after he had left. That was, of course, if he had even done anything at all. He had left so abruptly last night that Hermione hadn't even a chance to ask what was bothering him, not that he would tell her. He was so caught up in himself that Hermione just wanted to throw something at him. She smiled slightly to herself because Hermione sometimes did throw things at him.  
  
"Ms. Granger?"  
  
Hermione jumped as the voice of Professor Flitwick broke through her thoughts.  
  
"Professor?" She replied quickly.  
  
"Since you had the spell mastered before you even came to class I was wondering if you would mind taking this to Professor Fig?"  
  
Hermione nodded and scooped up the stack of books that Professor Flitwick had pointed too. Harry quickly opened the door for her. "We'll take your books back to the dining hall with us if you don't get back before class is over."  
  
"Thanks Harry," she called over her shoulder as she left the room.  
  
Most students were in class so Hermione was able to walk to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom fairly quickly. Professor Fig had started in the beginning of the year. She was almost as enjoyable a teacher as Professor Lupin had been. Sirius knew her pretty well, Harry thought they must have been friends back when they were in Hogwarts, but Sirius would never say for sure.  
  
The door to the classroom was closed and Hermione, piled down with books kicked at it with her toe. There was a muffled reply and the door opened. Hermione walked in carefully and headed to the desk. She glanced around herself and realized that Professor Fig was in the middle of a class, a fifth-year Slytherin class.  
  
"Professor Flitwick asked me to bring these to you Professor Fig," Hermione muttered, wishing that she wasn't attracting so much negative attention.  
  
"Yes thank you Ms. Granger, I've been asking Professor Flitwick for these books all week. Mr. Malfoy, please go help her." Professor Fig was on the far side of the classroom tightly holding a strange dark box, which seemed to be humming.  
  
"Oh no, Professor I've got…" But Hermione stopped when she felt his hands on hers and then the weight of books was lifted. He turned away from her and set the books on the table. Draco looked back at her, his silvery eyes unreadable. The entire room seemed to be terribly interested in watching the two of them and Hermione gulped nervously.  
  
"Well, goodbye Professor Fig," she said quickly and fled the classroom.  
  
She had only just reached the end of the hall when the door opened and there were footsteps hurrying to her. Draco swiftly approached carrying another book.  
  
"Fig wants you to give this back to Flitwick, she already has a copy." He said simply, a swatch of icily pale hair falling across one eye.  
  
"Oh, all right." Hermione said shyly taking the offered book.  
  
Draco turned and walked back to the class leaving Hermione watching. He was being very distant and Hermione was beginning to feel oddly light- headed. He stopped though, several steps away.  
  
"I found something," he muttered.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked not knowing what he was talking about right away.  
  
"I found something, what are you deaf?"  
  
"In the books? Wait," Hermione stepped forward and caught his arm making him look at her, "you found a counter-curse?" The excitement in her voice was barely containable.  
  
"I didn't say that, I just said that I found something." Draco's voice was opaque and Hermione frowned.  
  
"Well what did you find then?"  
  
"Just meet me in the library later." Draco pulled his arm away.  
  
"What? I can't wait that long! Tell me now!" Hermione snapped at him.  
  
Draco turned back to her and pulled her close, his mouth descended upon her but he didn't kiss her, he stopped right before and Hermione was surprised to find that she was leaning in to kiss him, and even more shocked when he pulled back.  
  
"Don't you know," Draco gently pushed her away, "I like keeping you in suspense."  
  
Hermione's eyes went wide and she stared in horrified shock at Draco. He smirked back at her.  
  
"You….you…I can't believe you!" Hermione spun around and stormed down the hall.  
  
"I was only teasing," Draco called merrily after her.  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione was pacing the room with quick, angry steps. She had been here an hour already. He loved making her wait. And that stunt earlier in the Defense Against the Dark arts corridor had left Hermione fuming for quite sometime. How dare he treat her like she was some sort Slytherin trollop?  
  
Hermione picked a book off the table and jerked it open, ripping a page nearly in half. "Oh bugger!" She grumbled.  
  
There was a click and the door began to open. Hermione glared darkly at the smirking face that appeared there. And for no real reason other than the fact that she found that sardonic look to be the most infuriating thing to have ever been seen, she threw the book at him. Draco hadn't been expecting an attack and didn't have time to dodge or even react. He was hit squarely in the face.  
  
"Ow!" Draco cried out as he covered his wounded nose with his hands, "what was that for?"  
  
"That was for, for, for earlier you egotistical, self-centered, womanizing git!" Hermione picked another book off the table.  
  
"Put the book down! I was only teasing! Don't get your knickers in an uproar. Doesn't anyone ever joke in the Gryffindor tower? Or are you all too busy doing noble, saintly acts of community service?" Draco was rubbing his nose vigorously.  
  
"Oh, did I hurt 'ittle Draco's nose?" Hermione snapped at him as she set the other book down.  
  
"Yes you did! I might bruise."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure many hearts will be broken the Slytherin dungeon over it." She replied snidely.  
  
"I'm sure they will be." Draco strode across the room and examined his reflection in a window pain.  
  
"Well, what did you find then?" Hermione was beginning to feel much better now that she had vented her anger.  
  
"And why on earth should I tell you anything?" Draco asked mutinously as he settled in the seat across from Hermione.  
  
Hermione glared at him darkly and reached for a book.  
  
"Ok, okay, no need to resort to violence." Draco held up his hands asking for peace.  
  
"So you found a counter-curse?"  
  
"There are no counter-curses, how many times do I have to tell you that. The Avada Kedavra curse kills you, not much you can do once your dead." Draco ran his hand through his hair, pushing back several wayward wisps.  
  
"That's it? That's what you wanted to tell me?" Hermione seemed to swell angrily.  
  
"No, I told you that I found something."  
  
"Well? You're doing this just to torment me aren't you?"  
  
"Yes probably, you see, when you get really angry you clench your fists like you're plotting to kill someone and I just find it delightful! Yes, just like that in fact." Draco smiled and pointed at Hermione's hands, which were curled up tightly in her lap.  
  
"I really, really dislike you right now."  
  
"All right, no more games. I didn't find a counter curse, but I found something else." Draco took a book out of his bag and opened it to a marked page and handed it to Hermione.  
  
"What is it? Is a patronus?" Hermione asked as she looked at the writing.  
  
"You know how to make a patronus?" Draco wondered.  
  
"Harry taught me, and Ron too."  
  
Potter and Weasley know how to conjure a patronus?" Draco said in a slightly awed voice.  
  
"Well after our third year we all decided that we should know how to fend off a dementor. You know, that's a very useful spell. And Harry…" Hermione looked up at Draco who had begun glowering at her.  
  
"Enough about the Boy Who Lived to Annoy Me, we have more important things at hand." Draco got up and came around the table so that he could look at the book at the same time. "See, this isn't a counter-curse, it's more of a shield made up of positive energy, which is why is reminds you of a patronus."  
  
Hermione looked, and felt lost. "What good would positive energy do?"  
  
"Don't you know how the killing curse works?" Draco asked surprised.  
  
"No! Of course not. Do you?"  
  
"Of course I do. Now don't look at me like that, we're all in agreement that my knowledge of the dark arts far outweighs your own. Basically, the killing curse works by channeling hate. When you cast the spell, every time that you have ever hated gets directed into one quick blast." Draco paused and looked at Hermione, her face had gone a little gray.  
  
"That's all it is, hate?" Hermione asked and then closed her eyes; her head had begun to hurt.  
  
Draco looked down at the book, "basically."  
  
"So that's what he meant about his mother's love." Hermione whispered softly, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
"Whose mother?"  
  
"Harry's mother. He told us that Dumbledore had said that his mother's love had saved him, protected him. She died for him." Hermione's voice quavered and she turned her head and buried her face in Draco's shoulder.  
  
He stiffened but didn't pull away.  
  
Hermione drew back from him then and wiped her eyes, "sorry," she muttered.  
  
"It's all right, I'm use to girls crying, although it's usually over me and not on me."  
  
Hermione grinned through her tears at him. "Charming."  
  
"I try."  
  
"So this works like the patronus spell?" Hermione asked after she had finally managed to stop crying.  
  
"Yes and no, it uses the same emotions that the patronus does, but you don't have to think of them yourself which is good. But it's only as strong as your happy emotions, so say if you were Longbottom, it wouldn't work at all. You need to have strong emotions for it to be of any use. Remember, people hate all the time, but happiness is much rarer."  
  
"So pessimistic."  
  
"It's the truth. The hate and anger far overshadow the happiness, so this spell could only protect you for a short period of time. Hopefully long enough to get away. And I think that he also intended to use it against the Cruciatus curse." Draco added.  
  
"What? But he didn't create that one! Everyone knows that the Cruciatus curse was invented by Thorn Firoot back in the 13th century when her neighbor intentionally cut down her currant tree." Hermione looked at Draco.  
  
"I know that, but O'Leary is a goody-two-shoes, don't forget. From what I read last night, this spell was actually intended to be the counter-curse for Cruciatus, but he modified it a bit after he invented the killing curse." He had flipped back a few pages and pointed to another block of text that he had noted in green.  
  
"Does it work?" She voiced the question breathlessly.  
  
"I have no idea, I don't think it says. I haven't quite got the translation finished yet either."  
  
"It's better than nothing though," she told him. "It's a lot better than nothing. It could change everything you know."  
  
"There's only one thing left to do now,"  
  
"Go to Headmaster Dumbledore." Hermione said immediately without a second thought.  
  
"Nope, we need to test it." Draco replied with finality.  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
___________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter! Please Read & Review!  
  
Thanks to everyone that has reviewed, it really means so much! 


	26. Hermione Learns a Curse

1.1 **Disclaimer: I own nothing! Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Okay, new chapter! I know I said that it would be out sooner, and I have no excuse except that sometimes I am just a slacker. It has been virtually finished all week… just sitting there in my laptop waiting for the proof read. I swear I could almost hear it when I got close to the computer. "Here! Here I am! Over here, please, really I'm done! Just give me a minute of your time!" Anyhoo…… I'm figuring 3 more chapters after this one. Mind you, that can change at any given moment. (  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"And just how exactly do you propose we test it?"  
  
Draco glanced back over his shoulder at Hermione who was trudging a few steps behind, holding up the hem of her robe to keep it from getting splattered with mud.  
  
She looked up at him, "I mean, why exactly are you dragging me out of the castle into this muck? Do we even have a plan?"  
  
They had spent most of the evening yesterday translating the spell that she hoped would somehow save her precious Potter and maybe some other people too from the tide of dark wizards that were approaching. They had worked out the spell and practiced the spell. They had gone over and over their pronunciation. They studied until their eyes hurt and the flames in the fireplace had dwindled to nothing but smoldering ashes. And yet, somehow, Draco had managed to convince Hermione to meet him very early that morning on the steps to entrance hall.  
  
He was now leading her across the grounds of the castle. The dawning air held a bit of a chill even though the weather had warmed up considerably. The sky was full of low, ominous clouds that foretold of a later afternoon shower.  
  
Neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before and, in Draco's opinion, Hermione was a little cranky for it. She stopped abruptly and Draco turned back to wait for her. She was eyeing the Forbidden forest that loomed in front of them.  
  
"We won't go very far in," Draco said simply.  
  
"I wish we didn't have to go into it at all." Hermione frowned at him, "have you forgotten the last time we got close to the Forbidden forest?"  
  
Draco had certainly not forgotten the time that they spent together in that half-giant's hut. But looking back on it, Draco admonished himself for wasting so much time arguing when there were other things that he could have been doing with Hermione in that hovel. He smirked to himself.  
  
"Don't worry, the manticore is dead, we have nothing to fear." He said firmly, fighting back his smile.  
  
"There is something else," her face became very pale and there was an anxious gleam in her eyes. "I was walking here, the other day, and I thought that…that someone was watching me."  
  
"Watching you? Hermione, I never knew you were so self-centered."  
  
"I'm not joking Malfoy!" Her voice snapped and Draco noticed that she began to nervously pull on one sleeve of her robe.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm here, what could possibly go wrong." Draco gave Hermione his brightest Malfoy smile.  
  
In response Hermione crossed her arms and gave him a look that reminded him of what could go wrong.  
  
"Look, if you want to run back into your glorious Gryffindor tower and hide behind your precious Potter then have at it!"  
  
Draco had given up trying to wheedle Hermione into accompanying him. He was a Malfoy, and that meant that he would never beg. He turned back and forged ahead into the dark trees. He was pleased though when he could hear her behind him still, walking along muttering darkly under her breath.  
  
They proceeded for a long time like that, him leading her deeper into the forest, farther away from the castle. Draco knew that the sun must have come up by now, but the brilliant waves didn't manage to breach the canopy of trees and he doubted if the sun had even managed to chase away the rain clouds that were waiting so patiently over the school. He finally decided that they had come far enough into the darkness to do what they needed to do.  
  
"I think this will be a good spot." He said simply.  
  
"A good spot for what? You still haven't told me how you plan to test this spell." Hermione started to pull leaves out of her hair, Draco had led them through several thickets of dense trees and Hermione's curls had managed to snag several little leafs as prisoners in their brown locks.  
  
Draco watched her closely and then said, "a good spot to teach you the Cruciatus curse."  
  
Hermione froze, her willowy fingers entangled in a knot of russet. She raised brown eyes to meet his gray. She didn't even ask him how he knew the spell or who had taught him. Hermione never for a moment seemed to doubt his ability. She simply began to brush a few more leaves out of her hair as if she hadn't heard him.  
  
"Hermione," Draco began.  
  
"No," she interrupted flatly. "There's another way. There is always another way."  
  
"There isn't any other way, if the spell works against Crucio, then it will more likely then not work against Avada Kedavra since they both work under the same principle." He argued.  
  
"I'm going to the headmaster," she snapped and turned around to head back towards the castle.  
  
"No you're not," Draco easily caught up with her and grabbed her shoulders, "look, we've come this far, I'm not about to turn over what could be the most important discovery in modern wizarding times to some bumbling old professors!"  
  
"This is ridiculous," Hermione snapped shrilly, "and illegal!"  
  
"It's the only way," Draco said firmly.  
  
"Well if you think it's such a good idea then," but Hermione paused and bit her lip, looking away. "If you think it's the only way, you should cast Cruciatus."  
  
Draco let go of Hermione's shoulders and stepped back, he had never even considered doing it that way.  
  
"Absolutely not," he said finally, his mouth strangely dry.  
  
Hermione stood where he had left her, head down, her face lost behind a wave of hair. "It makes more sense, to do it that way. You already know how. You've probably already done it at least once." Her own voice sounded very far away.  
  
"I said no, we're doing it the way I had planned." His voice was firmer than he felt.  
  
"But Draco, it would just be easier if you would…"  
  
"I said no!" Draco yelled at her.  
  
He couldn't tell her that the very idea of him casting such a spell on her made his stomach turn. The thought of someone else doing it made him want to kill. But he couldn't tell her this; he couldn't tell her that if the spell didn't work, he would never be able to forgive himself for hurting her.  
  
"It's better if you do it," he said finally, "that way if O'Leary's spell doesn't work, it won't be very bad. No offense Granger, but you're not very gifted at the dark arts. The best you could do is give me a bit of a headache, and that's only if the defense spell doesn't work."  
  
Hermione was extremely pale, "I don't even know how to cast it." She whispered.  
  
"Oh it's easy!" Draco said with a hint of forced gaiety, "even Longbottom could do it!"  
  
A light patter of rain began to fall, sending Draco and Hermione grasping for their wands.  
  
"Umbraculum" they said almost simultaneously, and a burst of color shot out of their wands and formed small, hovering clouds above their heads. Hermione's was blue, and not surprisingly, Draco's was a dark gray.  
  
"All you have to do," Draco started again, "is to point your wand at me and say the spell. You already know all the right inflections. That's all."  
  
"Is it really that simple?" She asked him surprised.  
  
"There is a reason why it's the most popular torture spell."  
  
"I can't do it,"  
  
"You have to," Draco turned from her and walked a few feet away, "I'm ready now."  
  
Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at him, the tip beginning to shake. The damp air was making her already unruly hair even wilder and droplets of water were starting to drip from the ends of its tendrils. Her eyes were wide and frightened, "Draco, I can't,"  
  
"Do it now Granger!" Draco snapped at her angrily.  
  
She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand and a look of resolve came into her face. Draco immediately began repeating the counter-curse in his head, knowing that she was going to do it.  
  
"crucio"  
  
The spell sounded so wrong coming from such an innocent voice, but Draco only had a spilt-second to think about that as he shouted out the only thing that might protect him.  
  
"arma immeritus!"  
  
He knew when the spell hit; the impact was strong. Later, Draco would marvel at this, he had never imagined that Hermione was that potent of a witch. But for the now, he could only think of one thing, there was no pain. A shimmer of light surrounded him, it was clear but the dull morning light glinted off of it at slicing angles. Dimly he knew that Hermione still had her wand pointed at him, maintaining the spell, but he felt his energy quickly beginning to drain. His iridescent shield was wavering. A low burning sensation was beginning to grow and Draco knew that he had only a moment longer before he would be feeling the full affects of the Cruciatus curse again.  
  
Hermione lowered her wand.  
  
It was over. Draco sensed his knees buckle and knelt down into the mud. He felt like a thousand dementors had just walked past him. Every ounce of positive feeling was gone, drained away by the spell. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath that was knocked immediately out of him as Hermione crashed against him, throwing her arms around him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Draco I'm so sorry."  
  
Draco looked at her. Hermione's eyes were filling those shiny tears that he hated to see.  
  
"I didn't want to do it, I knew that I shouldn't have." She broke into tears and pulled back from Draco, almost as if afraid to touch him.  
  
Hermione was kneeling a foot from Draco, her head bowed, sobbing into her hands. Draco thought that she might be mumbling incoherently under her breath, but it was hard to tell as she had just begun hiccupping.  
  
Draco took a steadying breath, trying to regain some of his strength. He reached out his hand and grasped Hermione's, pulling them away from her face.  
  
"Hermione," he said gently, "it's all right. You didn't hurt me."  
  
The racking sobs began to die down and Hermione muttered, "I didn't?"  
  
Draco forced her chin up so that he was looking into her face. Tears still clouded her eyes but for the moment she was containing them, "no, you didn't hurt me. The spell worked."  
  
Her eyes went wide and she stopped crying completely, "really? It really worked?"  
  
Draco smiled sleepily at her; he was exhausted. "Yes it worked, takes a lot out of a wizard, but it works."  
  
Hermione's lower lip began to tremble and she wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and gave him a tight hug, tears beginning to fall freely. "I thought I had hurt you," she mumbled.  
  
Draco patted the top of her head awkwardly, "no offense Granger, but you seem to be awfully high-strung lately."  
  
"High-strung? You think I'm high-strung?" Hermione pulled back from him. "We've got finals soon, not to mention OWLS. We've spent all week talking about dark spells this and evil wizards that." Hermione had gotten to her feet and had begun pacing angrily through the misting rain, her little umbrella cloud unable to keep up with her. "And you've dragged me out here and made me cast not only a dark magic spell, but an illegal one at that! And then, of course, there is whatever this thing is going on between us. And don't look at me like you've haven't got the foggiest idea as to what I'm referring to! Merlin's beard! It's no wonder if I'm a bit edgy at the moment."  
  
Draco couldn't help but snort slightly with ill-contained laughter.  
  
"Oh you think this is funny?" Her dark hair was almost black because of the rain and it was beginning to plaster itself to her face and neck. "What if I had hurt you? I don't think I could bear it." Her tirade was finished and Hermione sat back down next to Draco, the anger gone from eyes.  
  
"Why couldn't you bear it?" Draco was feeling better now; her furious rants almost always amused him, even when they were directed at him. But now he was asking a dangerous question, and all amusement was gone from his voice. Draco wasn't entirely sure if either of them were ready for the answer.  
  
"Because…I don't want you getting hurt. And I certainly wouldn't want to be the one hurting you." Her words seemed to have been chosen very carefully.  
  
Draco settled back against a tree trunk. They obviously weren't about to make any more revelations today, and perhaps that was for the best. He wasn't sure how he would have responded if she had asked him the same question. There was a strong breath of wind and the branches all swayed sending a cascade of droplets down. Draco closed his eyes as they hit his face; he knew that they should probably head back to the castle soon before any of her blessed friends realized that she was missing. But the continual rain began to fall harder, and Hermione moved towards him and much to Draco's surprise, she settled herself against him. Draco decided then that Potter and Weasley could send out a whole team of aurors for all he cared.  
  
"So it really worked?" She asked him again after a few moments of quiet.  
  
"Yeah," He replied drowsily.  
  
"You really think that this could stop Avada Kedavra?" Hermione sounded a little anxious.  
  
"I'm making an educated guess that it will. O'Leary hasn't been wrong so far."  
  
"That's awfully optimistic of you."  
  
Draco glanced at her, "well you're the one always complaining that I'm too pessimistic. But if you want proof, let's teach it to Potter and then the next time Voldemort tries to kill him, we'll know for sure. We'll probably only have to wait a week or so knowing Potter and his knack for being in the right place at the right time." Draco grinned at her, but Hermione glowered at him.  
  
"I don't think that's funny."  
  
Draco smirked and then leaned in to kiss her, one hand lightly squeezing the back of her neck. He withdrew a millimeter or two, "yeah, I know." He said before kissing her again.  
  
Hermione smiled against his lips and put her arms around him, pulling him closer. She broke the kiss, "remind me to be angry at you for that later."  
  
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure that if you've forgotten it, I'll probably just end up saying something equally as witty to get you angry."  
  
Draco shifted so that he was above Hermione; he surveyed her for a moment. Her wet hair lay in smooth damp locks around her face and shoulders, her equally dark eyes seemed even deeper than usual due, he believed, to all the tears she had shed recently. She was really almost too pretty sometimes, not that he would ever tell her that. Draco smiled down at her and kissed her again, losing himself in the warmth that she possessed.  
  
  
  
The rain was still falling freely as they walked the steps to Hogwarts. The grounds had been deserted because of the inclement weather and Draco was thankful for that little slice of luck. As if the rumors weren't bad enough already, for the two in question to stroll across the grounds looking like they had just taken a tumble into the lake together would be unthinkable. Not that they had actually taken a tumble in the lake, but they might as well have considering how wet they were. The only dry part of either of them was their bags.  
  
Draco was once again pleased that unlike most witches he had known, Hermione had used the time-consuming repelius charm to ward water away from her backpack rather than a fashionable robe or a stylish pair of shoes.  
  
Hermione caught him looking at her and smiled at him. Her eyes were bright and a rosy hint colored her cheeks. As she continued to meet his gaze, the glowing hue deepened to a bright blush and Hermione looked away biting her lip. Draco smirked to himself as the idea to drag her back the way they had just came and do even more things with her occurred to him. Not that she would let him, but Draco could imagine.  
  
He stopped at the great doors and turned to her, "you'd better go first. We don't want anyone to see us together."  
  
The warm glint in her eyes seemed to fade and Draco was about to ask her when she pushed quickly past him. "You're right, of course, should have known." She snapped at him before pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
The rain began to fall harder and a rumble of thunder could be heard. Draco stood staring at the door in dismay. He was never so inept when dealing with Pansy, or any other girl for that matter.  
  
"Maybe it's a muggle-born thing." He muttered to himself as he finally entered the school after giving Hermione enough of a head start to not seem planned.  
  
He got a few strange looks as he made his way down to the Slytherin dungeon. But no one had the nerve to say anything. Even without Crabbe and Goyle, Draco was rather fearsome. All of the lesser years did their best to stay out of his way.  
  
The dungeon seemed empty, most students preferring to stay in the higher and drier parts of the school today because of the dreary weather. This suited Draco just fine though; he wasn't really in the mood to socialize at the moment. All he wanted was a chance to get clean.  
  
The steam in the showers clouded the air and Draco lost himself in his own thoughts as the hot water washed the mud from his body. Most of these thoughts had to do with a certain brown haired Gryffindor girl. Draco especially liked the one where she somehow managed to sneak into the dungeon and join him in the shower and…  
  
Draco turned the water off with a wishful sigh. He had to stop thinking about her. He knew that he had to let go of this fixation that he had on Hermione. It was really becoming very bothersome. She always seemed to be afflicting his thoughts. Half of the time these thoughts were completely innocent. It seemed that the tamer thoughts happened almost as much as the naughtier ones, which didn't seem right since he had only entertained the latter of those two thoughts when it usually came to witches.  
  
Lucius had once told him that it was all right be obsessed with something. Obsession was a driving force that could be shaped to one's own will. But Lucius had warned him to not let anything get too far out of control because a want could easily become a need.  
  
Draco knew that he couldn't let things go much further. She was already beginning to affect him in ways he never thought possible. He had become more concerned with the plight of the wizarding world. Not to say that Voldemort hadn't been on his mind before her, but then he had only been preoccupied with his own safety. Now though, he was becoming preoccupied with her own. Someone had to be since she obviously wasn't. And perfect Potter didn't have enough sense to keep his friends out of harms way. Why, it was probably Hermione's good fortune that she had been spending so much time with Draco this year; he had kept her out of harm's way. But when she wasn't with him, how to keep her safe when Potter got her into trouble? Maybe he could teach her a few more dirty tricks; she had handled the Cruciatus curse admirably. Draco smirked slightly when he tried to picture Hermione's reaction to a lesson in the dark arts.  
  
He pulled on a clean, dry robe and ran his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. His grin faded. He needed to distance himself from her before it was too late. It was one thing to lust after her, but he was beginning to think that there was something much larger going on. In the back of his mind, he could hear Lucius.  
  
"Needs make you weak."  
  
  
  
Another letter had come from Lucius. It was as enigmatic as the others. His mother condition had worsened, but not terribly. It was a bad case, but the doctors remained hopeful. Although Draco couldn't see any doctor in St. Mungo's being brave enough to tell Lucius Malfoy that his wife was going to die.  
  
For the first time in a very long while, Draco actually wanted to go home. He had to know if she was sick or not. And he doubted that there was anyway to do that without contacting Lucius. His letter was short, to the point, and as carefully worded as any letter that Draco had received from Lucius. He asked simply if he could arrange to come and see his mother. When he was finally satisfied with the dispatch he headed to the owlery.  
  
He selected a dull brown school owl to deliver his letter. His own owl was off somewhere but Draco didn't mind. The eagle owl that Lucius had given him the day he left for Hogwarts was always a bit too excited to be delivering letters for Draco and he had often wondered if the owl ever stopped back at the Manor to give Lucius updates on his son. No, Draco preferred using the school owls.  
  
The letter was secure and Draco watched from the window as the laden owl disappeared into the dark storm clouds that surrounded the school. He had just turned to go back when over the familiar sounds of many hooting owls, he heard something else. Draco surveyed the dark room looking for something that didn't belong. And then, emerging from the doorway, a young woman wearing school robes appeared, a letter clasped tightly in her hands as if she was afraid that a stray breeze might try to capture it and spirit it away. As the figured neared, Draco realized who it was.  
  
"Pansy," Draco said simply.  
  
The other Slytherin jumped back with a cry of alarm. She hadn't expected anyone else to be here.  
  
"D…Draco," Pansy returned as she quickly shoved her letter deep into a pocket. "Where have you been this morning? You never made it to breakfast."  
  
"I had things to do," Draco responded carefully.  
  
Pansy's eyes narrowed faintly but then a warm smile melted the cold lines of her face. "I understand," her smile deepened, "you're going through a hard time right now, what with your mother and all. My mother is worried sick to tell you the truth, she's been to St. Mungo's four times already and she comes home even more distraught than before."  
  
Draco said nothing to this; he found Pansy's sympathy to be rather worrying.  
  
"I know that I've said this before," Pansy walked up to him and placed a hand on his arm, "but if you need someone to talk to, I'm always available for you." She smiled and tightened her grip. "We don't even have to talk if you don't want to, there are other things that we can do if you'd rather."  
  
Pansy languidly ran her hand up his arm and then back through his hair. Her fingers tightened and she pulled him down to meet her lips. They were slick and glossy from whatever it was that she always had on them. Once Draco had once found it strongly appealing. But there wasn't any of the heady, uncontrollable passion that he felt when he kissed Hermione. He could never get her close enough. But kissing Pansy was just as it had always been, premeditated and cold.  
  
There was a sudden sound that seemed out of place in the dark room. Draco pushed Pansy back from him and scanned the shadowy depths of the owlery. He thought that perhaps the door had just clicked shut, but he couldn't tell. Pansy tried to wrap her arms around him again but he pushed her back.  
  
"Get off Pansy," he snapped.  
  
Pansy stumbled back furiously and hissed at him, "what, afraid the mudblood might see?"  
  
Draco flinched for he was, in fact, worried that this might get back to Hermione. "Don't call her that." His voice was firm and cold. He had used that voice to keep Crabbe and Goyle in line, to frighten the younger years, and intimidate some of the older ones. But Pansy only smiled.  
  
"You're worse off than I had thought, aren't you Draco?"  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
**There will be another chapter so please Read & Review! 


	27. The Mistake

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***New chapter! Yeah! I know I'm excited too. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed me! I really really really appreciate it. Now I'm still planning on there only being two more chapters after this and then a tiny little epilogue (just cause I like to sum things up). But I have A LOT to do in the next chapter, so this is a very optimistic presumption of mine. Anyhoo….enjoy…..  
  
____________________________________________  
  
  
  
"So, when Katie was reaching for the pitcher of juice, she turned to look at Angelina who had just said something really clever." Ron paused to watch as Harry finally decided to move his pawn.  
  
"And that gave George the opportunity that he had been waiting for," Harry continued for Ron.  
  
"George charmed the pitcher to look like a giant beetle. Katie didn't notice until she was about to pour her self a glass." Ron grinned at Hermione. "And what does one do when they discover that their pitcher of juice now looks remarkably like a huge fat beetle with wiggling antennas and everything?" Ron asked Harry.  
  
"She threw it." Harry said quickly. "Right at Fred, although that could have been an accident."  
  
"You might think that a beetle couldn't really knock someone unconscious." Ron paused to scrutinize the chessboard. "But the charm George used only made the pitcher look like a beetle."  
  
Harry frowned as Ron took a knight before he said, "It was still, in fact, a heavy pitcher of juice."  
  
"And that is why my dear older brother is now spending the afternoon in the hospital wing."  
  
"And Katie isn't speaking to George," Harry added.  
  
Hermione pulled the scarlet quilt tighter around her shoulders, she was still dripping wet, Harry and Ron had both insisted that she sit and listen to them retell their very exciting morning that she had missed. "Will he be all right?" She asked with a slight twinge of worry.  
  
"Oh he'll be fine, Fred has a hard head." Ron took Harry's king.  
  
Harry look nonplussed over his defeat and grinned and Ron, "it must be a Weasley trait."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron sniffed with disapproval sounding incredibly like Hermione.  
  
Hermione unfolded herself from the sofa she had been perched upon and pushed her wet sleeves up. "Well if you don't mind, I'm going to go find something dry to wear."  
  
"Where were you anyway?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron stopped setting up the pieces for the next game and looked Hermione up and down again, "you look like you had a fight with the giant squid and I'd wager all of my chocolate frogs I've got leftover from Christmas that you won."  
  
"I was…I was just working on my Arithmancy project." Hermione became very interested in the intricate gold brocade lion on the front of the red blanket she had been using.  
  
"Oh," both boys said together.  
  
Hermione glanced up at them to see Ron mouth "Malfoy" and Harry nod in agreement.  
  
"Look, what we're doing is really important." Hermione felt herself begin to flush though since the last hour of their time together had had nothing to do with class work.  
  
As if reading her thoughts Ron made a gagging sound in the back of his throat, "ehh, Hermione, we don't want to know."  
  
Hermione scowled at them both and walked across the common room to the girls' stairwell, she looked back at them expecting to see Ron glaring darkly at her, but her friends were once again deep into a chess match. She smiled then as she watched them, they had known who she had been with, and neither of them seemed upset. They had become almost accepting. It was probably because they thought she had just gone a little crazy being a young, teenage girl. But if that made things easier for them to handle, Hermione didn't mind.  
  
  
  
Hermione crawled onto her bed and pulled the thick, warm quilt up to her chin. Her clean wet hair was pulled up on top of her head in a knot that would never have stayed in place had she been a muggle girl. She had to admit; Lavender and Parvarti did know a few good tricks. It wasn't even lunchtime yet but Hermione was thinking about just how good it would be to take a nap. Thunder rumbled distantly from outside the tower and Hermione snuggled deeper, even more of a reason to stay in bed.  
  
The spell had worked. Hermione grinned widely. They had done it. They had found something to stop the killing curse, well Cruciatus, at the very least. They wouldn't know for sure if it would stop Avada Kedavra until someone actually used it against that fearsome curse. And from what Draco said, the O'Leary spell took so much energy to maintain, it would only work for a few minutes. But it was better than nothing, amazingly better. Why, with this spell, new spells could be formed on its foundation. Maybe one day there would actually be a counter-curse.  
  
Yes, it had been a good morning. Well, casting Cruciatus on Draco had been very trying. She had never, in even the most far-reaching edges of her imagination, ever thought that she would cast such a spell. But it had worked out for the best; she hadn't hurt him, not really. And now they knew for certain.  
  
Then there had been after the spell. Under the trees, cowering from the rain together. Hermione sighed softly. It was safe to say that she was beginning to accept the fact that when it came to Draco, she was experiencing feelings that she never had before. But was this a good thing? What if their flirtation went to far? What if she fell in love with him? What if he didn't want her?  
  
There was the tiniest of knocks at her door. Hermione sat up as Ginny Weasley leaned cautiously around the edge of the door and peered nervously in.  
  
"It's just me Ginny," Hermione called out from her bed. Ginny had been avoiding Lavender and Parvarti ever since she had saved Hermione from their clutches a week ago.  
  
Ginny stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her face was pale and she looked worried. Her red plaited hair had begun to fall out and a fine sheen of sweat shone on her face as if she had just run here.  
  
"Ginny?" Hermione climbed off her bed, "is there something wrong?"  
  
"Hermione, I…" but Ginny's voice faded off as she nervously studied her friend.  
  
"What is it? What's happened? Is everyone all right?" Hermione's voice rose in panic at Ginny's silence.  
  
"No, no one's hurt. It's just, well I went to the owlery to send a letter off to mum." Ginny chewed on her bottom lip as she decided to continue, "oh Hermione, I saw Malfoy there kissing that Slytherin girl."  
  
"Pansy?" Hermione asked numbly.  
  
Ginny nodded miserably.  
  
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked numbly, her imagination suddenly supplying her mind with images of Draco kissing Pansy. Kissing her in the library, in their common room, outside on the grounds. Hermione saw him kissing Pansy in everyplace that he had ever kissed her.  
  
Ginny nodded again. "Are you okay?" She asked stepping forward.  
  
Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "I…I'm fine Ginny," she said finally.  
  
The concerned expression that the youngest Weasley wore obviously belied this.  
  
"I'm fine Ginny, really, why should I care if Malfoy wants to kiss that pug faced little twit?" Hermione felt like her throat was closing up.  
  
"Hermione," Ginny went to touch Hermione's shoulder but the other girl stepped back.  
  
"You know Ginny, I'm really tired, I think I'm going to lay down for a little while."  
  
"Hermione," Ginny pleaded, her eyes large with worry.  
  
"Ginny," Hermione clasped her friend's hands in her own, "I'm all right, really. It's just Malfoy after all."  
  
Ginny frowned but eventually nodded, "all right, I guess I'll leave you alone then."  
  
Hermione waited until Ginny had pulled the door closed behind her before walking back to her bed. She lay down and curled up, tucking her knees under chin. She sniffed softly, trying very hard not cry. But honestly, what had she expected anyway?  
  
  
  
She paced nervously outside of the Arithmancy classroom. Hermione had avoided Draco for several days. She hadn't left the tower for fear of Draco tracking her down and she didn't think she could handle seeing him at the moment. Hermione hadn't even gone to the Great Hall for meals, she told Ron and Harry that she was feeling a little under the weather and they had left it at that. Ginny knew better of course, she never spoke of it, but she brought back toast for Hermione from every meal. Hermione had stayed tucked away in her own common room, safe from the likes of Draco Malfoy, but now she had no choice but to face him.  
  
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Hermione paused to apologize to Professor Vector being late. Several of her fellow students looked up and followed her progress as she climbed the steps and sat down in her seat next to Malfoy.  
  
"Now that we're all here, let's begin," Professor Vector began to write something on the board.  
  
As soon as Hermione was settled in her chair, Draco turned to her.  
  
"Where have you been?" He hissed angrily.  
  
Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment and a dark green quill. She looked forward and ignored Draco. He wasn't to be put off, however. He grabbed her arm and jerked her around so that she was looking at him.  
  
"I thought there was something wrong with you, I thought you were hurt or sick!" He hissed angrily, his originally low voice rising high enough so that the students nearest them turned to look.  
  
Hermione jerked her arm away from him and snapped, "The only thing wrong with me is you!"  
  
Draco looked shocked and angry, "what are you talking about?" Hermione had turned away from him again. "Hermione, what is it?" He growled at her, virtually every student in the classroom had abandoned their parchments and were watching them.  
  
"Why don't you ask Pansy?" Hermione replied nastily.  
  
"Is there a problem?" An annoyed voice cut through their argument, "Ms. Granger? Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Even with every student watching them, even with the admonition of their professor, Hermione and Draco held each other's eyes in a heated exchange for a moment longer before pulling back and simultaneously shaking their heads.  
  
Hermione felt her chin begin to shake but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, of letting him know that he had hurt her, that he had won. The class proceeded silently and as soon as Professor Vector announced that they were dismissed, Hermione shot out of her seat.  
  
She pushed past students and darted through the door, breaking into a sprint as soon as she hit the corridor. Hermione knew that he was following and she sped on. She glanced back over her shoulder trying to see if she had managed to escape him and ran right into a seventh year Ravenclaw. Hermione fell backwards hard as the girl, one of Cho's friends, swept past her in annoyance.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione murmured as someone helped her to her feet.  
  
"Wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to leave you sprawled on the floor." Said a lazy drawl.  
  
Hermione spun to come face to face with Draco. He smirked at her, his most typical Malfoy expression.  
  
"Stay away from me," Hermione hissed.  
  
Draco didn't reply, just grabbed her arm and started to pull her along after him. Hermione struggled against his grip but he was much stronger than her.  
  
"Granger," he said calmly over his shoulder, "you're making a scene." For indeed, the crowded walkway was stopping to watch.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere with you. You conceited prat!" Hermione pulled against him desperately.  
  
Draco turned to face her, "either you walk like the sixth year witch that you are or I will carry you over my shoulder like the petulant toddler you're acting, but either way, you are going to talk to me."  
  
He let go of her arm and stood watching her expectantly. There was a crowd of whispering students surrounding them and Hermione began to blush. Draco looked completely calm and at ease considering how he felt about all the rumors in school.  
  
"Fine," she snapped and started walking again, heading to someplace deserted.  
  
They retraced their steps back to their now empty Arithmancy classroom. They were given a wide berth as fellow students watched and whispered as they passed. She turned to him once the door was closed and waited for whatever it was he wanted to say, determined that she wouldn't break down, wouldn't show her pain.  
  
Draco stood watching her, his gray eyes dark and unreadable.  
  
"Did you see it?" He asked her finally.  
  
"No," Hermione swallowed as a lump formed in her throat, "Ginny did."  
  
"I should have known it was a Weasley," he muttered.  
  
"Oh that's rich of you, blame it on Ginny?" Hermione glowered.  
  
"I didn't kiss Pansy," he muttered, "she kissed me."  
  
"And that makes all the difference, really it does."  
  
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. He seemed at a loss as to what to say.  
  
"Look," Hermione broke the silence, "it doesn't matter anyway. You can kiss whomever you want."  
  
"I can?" Draco sounded surprised.  
  
"Of course, it's not like you owed me anything. It isn't as if what we've been doing means anything." Hermione felt the tears begin to cloud her vision as she said this and she knew that she had to get out of this room and away from him, but she couldn't help but ask. "Does it mean anything?"  
  
Draco eyes flashed wildly and there was a glint of desperation but he said nothing. A stray tear slid down Hermione's cheek and she rubbed at her eyes. It was over whatever it was; she was done. Hermione walked to Draco and leaned up and tenderly kissed his cheek. She gave him the frailest of smiles and another tear escaped but she didn't bother to brush it away, it didn't seem to matter now. Hermione walked past him and out into the crowds, leaving him behind.  
  
  
  
Hermione angrily paced her dorm room. Across the stone floor, past the beds, and then back again. Lavender and Parvarti were sitting together on Parvarti's bed painting their toenails and watching with bemused interest.  
  
"Hermione," Lavender said, "is there something wrong?"  
  
"I left my Potions book in the library," Hermione snapped, "I can't believe I left my Potions book in the library." She stopped and glared at the pile of books that she had strewn over her bed during the desperate search for her Potions text.  
  
"So why don't you just go to the library and get it?" Parvarti suggested while stretching her toes trying to catch the firelight.  
  
Hermione glared at the two girls.  
  
"Since when don't you like to go to the library?" Lavender was watching her closely, "you know, you've been acting funny all day today."  
  
Hermione began pacing again; trying to ignore the overly interested looks she was getting from her dorm mates. Yes, she had been acting funny all day. But then what should one expect? She felt funny, all empty and cold. And it was all his fault. Hermione hated Draco.  
  
She gave an exasperated groan; there wasn't anything to be done. Hermione pulled her cloak off of a chair and threw it over her shoulders. Lavender and Parvarti watched in amusement as she stormed from the dorm room, determined to get her Potions book back, Malfoy be damned.  
  
It only took her a few minutes to reach the library; most students were on their way to the great hall for dinner. Hopefully, if she as lucky, Malfoy would be among them. Hermione had kept her mind busy all that day, working on her homework, and studying for the upcoming finals, only a few weeks away now.  
  
Hermione had done everything she could to keep her mind off of Draco. He had hurt her. What she had promised herself wouldn't happen had happened. She had never had any intentions of letting that Slytherin prat get so close to her, and yet he had managed to worm his way into her anyway. Hermione had been shocked to realize that she wasn't even that mad at him. What she had said in their Arithmancy classroom was true he; didn't owe her anything. Just because she had let herself get close to him, to trust him, care for him, that wasn't his responsibility. But, even so, Hermione had never felt more miserable in her life.  
  
There were more people in the library than Hermione would have anticipated. Several Ravenclaws that she knew, and a few Hufflepuffs as well. All eyes watched her as she crossed the large room, she could make out some of the whispers as she passed.  
  
"Did you hear what happened earlier? See her? That's Hermione Granger," one voice whispered to her left.  
  
"…In love with some Slytherin, can you believe that? Imagine, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin." Another voiced echoed from the right.  
  
Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to glower at the nearest group of gossiping students. There was an embarrassed silence as everyone immediately looked back down at their tables. She stood a moment longer, daring anyone to say something, but the students all wore equal looks of contrition.  
  
She headed up the small spiral stairs in the back and headed to their room. Her stomach did a nervous flip-flop and Hermione had to bite down hard on her lip as it began to quiver, a sure sign that she was going to cry.  
  
The door to the room was unlocked, and Hermione miserably turned the handle and walked in fully expecting to see him. But the room was empty. Hermione frowned, he knew better than to leave the door open.  
  
"Draco?" She called, but there was no answer.  
  
Her frown deepened as she walked further into the room. A surge of annoyance sprung up over his sloppiness, really, these books were priceless.  
  
Hermione's eyes fell upon her Potions book sitting out of place on the table. It's fairly new bindings standing out against the ancient tomes surrounding it. With a sigh of relief, Hermione picked it up and tucked it into her bag. She was turning to go when something else caught her eyes. Sitting at the edge of the table was a letter.  
  
She lifted it up and unfolded it with shaking fingers believing that it was from Draco, but it wasn't.  
  
  
  
Draco,  
  
I'm glad to see that you have finally come to your senses. I shall be expecting you in Hogsmeade promptly at eight this evening. I have informed your mother that you will be coming home and I believe that this has helped to bolster her health. But I warn you Draco, do not fail me again.  
  
Father  
  
  
  
Hermione reread the letter, her hands trembling and her face pale.  
  
"Oh no Draco, no," she moaned.  
  
That idiot! What was he thinking? Hermione glanced at her watch, it was already seven thirty, he would have left already. He fell for it; Hermione didn't know how he could have fallen for it. It was a trap; it was obviously a trap.  
  
"What am I going to do?" Hermione whispered to herself, her face lined with worry.  
  
Her hand tightened on the letter, crinkling the page. And then Hermione decided. She had to go, now, as fast as she could. She had to find him and stop him. There wasn't time to get Harry and Ron, there wasn't time for the invisibility cloak, she had to hurry.  
  
She ran from the room, leaving the door standing open and forgotten behind her. In her haste, she almost slipped down the last few steps but she managed to catch herself on the wrought iron banister. The same students who had avoided her gaze a few minutes before now watched in wonderment as she rushed past them.  
  
It was staying light outside deeper into the evening and there were still a few lingering students on the grounds as Hermione erupted through the front doors. No one paid her any mind though as she headed down across the lawn, and no one seemed to notice when she passed through the gates and continued down the road.  
  
  
  
Once she reached town Hermione paused to catch her breath, her head was pounding and there was a painful twinge in her side. Hermione scanned the streets hoping for some glimpse of Draco, but he wasn't to be seen. She moaned lowly. Where would they meet? Hermione couldn't picture the father and son having a round of butterbeer.  
  
"Think Hermione," she rubbed her temples in desperation.  
  
And then she knew. The day of the Halloween feast, when she had found Draco in the alley. It had to be near there. The chase began again.  
  
She had almost reached the alleyway where she had discovered Draco so long ago when muffled voices could be heard. She stepped back into a shadow-masked doorway and held her breath. Two hooded figures past by her, they were talking softly to each other. Once they had gone far enough ahead, Hermione slipped out of the doorway and followed them, cautiously keeping a large distance between them.  
  
They headed down one darkened cul-de-sac and Hermione slipped into another alleyway. This all seemed very familiar. Hermione remember a dream, the dream that had led to discovering the killing curse. This was the same house where she had seen Draco sprawled on the ground at Lucius' mercy.  
  
"Very little aura indeed," she muttered quietly.  
  
With her back pressed tightly into the brick wall of the alley, Hermione glanced around the corner at the derelict house that was the chosen meeting place of Draco's father. She strained her eyes in the dim light trying to find Draco hidden in the shadows. A breeze ruffled her cloak and for a moment she thought that someone might have noticed her but the dark figures continued to talk amongst themselves oblivious to her. Where was Draco? He was late, had he changed his mind? Hermione prayed that he had. It was an obvious trap. But then he hadn't listened to her so far had he? She leaned further out and tried to make out the faces of the pair that were waiting outside the house. It was impossible, however, with the darkness that had curled into the neighborhood with the setting of the sun.  
  
Hermione glanced at her watch and felt her pocket again for her wand, reassuring herself that it was indeed there. The slender stem of wood was comforting.  
  
Hermione swallowed and nervously slipped a little more out of the alley, hoping that she would see Draco before anyone else did. He had to be coming, any moment now.  
  
She had to stop him, had to save him. But Draco had yet to appear and Hermione was beginning to lose her daring. And more unnerving than anything else were the figures standing in front of the house. They were talking in voices so hushed that Hermione couldn't make them out, but she had spent enough time with Harry and Ron to know when someone was talking about Quidditch. And being presented with a couple of death eaters that seemed more concerned with the results of the most recent Falcons' game didn't really seem to portend any real danger. Had she been mistaken? Was Draco's mother's really sick?  
  
Hermione had only a moment to consider that perhaps she had been wrong to try and persuade Draco that this was a trap and that Narcissa Malfoy was really in the best of health when a sudden presence behind her erased any doubt.  
  
"Ms. Granger, it is so satisfying to see you again. Ahh, but I'm afraid that we've never been properly introduced. But we'll have enough time to make up for that won't we?" Lucius Malfoy's deceptively silky voice resonated right behind her, so close that she shivered.  
  
Hermione didn't even have time to turn around let alone try to escape. Her only thought before the crushing blow brought her into a place of deepest darkness was that she had been right. This was indeed a trap, only it hadn't been meant for Draco.  
  
  
  
___________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter. Please Read & Review!! 


	28. A Necessary Alliance

1.1 **Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Woo-hoo! Another chapter! And kudos to every one who saw this coming, not that I try to be overtly sneaky in my plots or anything. Now when I said that there were two chapters left last time I posted…that was an optimistic goal. I just keep hoping that this fic will eventually end sometime in my lifetime. So we still have at least two chapters to go. AT LEAST.  
  
_________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
The low stone ceiling really did lose its interest after an hour or so of close study. Draco groaned; this was stupid, he knew that it was. A Malfoy didn't mope about like some lovesick puppy. Malfoy's took what they wanted when they wanted it and they would broach no argument. And yet, even knowing how a proper Malfoy should deal with the problem at hand, Draco had yet to pull himself away from the large granite slabs that were above his bed.  
  
He knew that he should find her, apologize, make up some lovely bit of nonsense that Lucius always used to make his mother happy. Maybe tell her a few promises that he didn't intend to keep. But then what if he did intend to keep them? That was, of course, the most worrying aspect of this matter. He felt truly bad for letting Pansy kiss him. He had felt guilty for not pushing her away immediately. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had felt guilty over anything.  
  
Now the only thing left to be done was to find the girl. Find Hermione and make her understand that he was sorry. Tell her that he was miserable when she hated him. Tell her that he missed her. But Draco would rather tell Potter that he envied his Quidditch skills before he would tell Hermione any of that romantic dribble, even if it were true. No, the only way to handle this was to tell her that Pansy had thrown herself at him, and that, as Hermione had said, he didn't owe her anything. Then he should probably try to incorporate their project into the conversation, talking about Arithmancy almost always put her in a good mood. And then, if he was charming enough, he could probably even kiss her. He had a plan now and that was good. It wasn't even eight yet; he could probably still find her in the library.  
  
Draco pushed off the bed and strolled leisurely down the hall to the common room. He was in no hurry; he could easily picture Hermione sitting in their room working, part of her waiting for him. The thought brought a self-satisfied smirk to his face and he sped up a little, always happy to oblige.  
  
  
  
The door to their room was slightly ajar and Draco smiled triumphantly as he pushed it open, knowing that she was there. But she wasn't, someone else was.  
  
"Pansy?"  
  
The Slytherin girl spun around a guilty expression on her face. She shoved something deep into her robes and stepped backwards, nearly tripping over a stack of books.  
  
"Draco…" she murmured, sending nervous glances at the door behind him.  
  
"What are you doing here, where's Hermione?" Draco's voice was firm but dangerous, there was something about the mutinous gleam in her eyes that he didn't like. There was something akin to triumphant on her face.  
  
"Maybe she went for a walk?" Pansy's voice was steady but Draco could hear the apprehension underneath.  
  
"What was that you were putting in your pocket?" Draco thought that perhaps she was stealing some of their work.  
  
"Nothing," Pansy replied as pushed her hand into her pocket and tightened her grip.  
  
Draco stepped forward quickly and grabbed her arm, Pansy struggled, but Draco who was larger and stronger, easily wrestled her to the table where he forced her against it, his hands trying to gain access to her pockets.  
  
"This brings back memories, doesn't it Draco?" As if needing to emphasize her point, Pansy pressed back against him.  
  
But Draco's hand had closed on a scrap of parchment and he pulled it out and pushed her away, "shut up Pansy," he muttered as he unfolded the note.  
  
Pansy stayed where she was and watched as he began to read the letter. He knew that it was most definitely from Lucius, but he didn't understand, he had never made plans to meet Lucius in Hogsmeade. Draco read the letter again in confusion. He turned towards Pansy and she stepped back, stumbling this time over a book bag that had been left haphazardly in the way. Draco looked at it for a moment, his mind taking a while to put the pieces together and realize what this all meant.  
  
Pansy began to inch towards the door but Draco grabbed her again and jerked her away from it, he shoved her hard against the wall and she whimpered in pain.  
  
"Where is she?" He hissed, his face only a few inches from Pansy's.  
  
"I don't know," Pansy replied bravely.  
  
"You tricked her, you've been helping him all along, spying. My mother isn't even sick, is she?" Draco shoved her back again even harder and Pansy's bravery dwindled.  
  
"No, your mother isn't sick," she yelped as he pushed her again. "But your father didn't know what else to do. You had completely written off your family, turned your back on them, he was desperate."  
  
"Where is she?" Draco felt his patience crack as a wave of fear spread through him.  
  
"In…in Hogsmeade, Lucius wanted to talk to her, convince her to stay away from you." Pansy trembled.  
  
"You stupid little chit," Draco let go of her; his hands were beginning to shake. "He'll kill her."  
  
Draco left Pansy there; he had no time to worry about her. He could only focus on one thing, hoping that he could get to Hermione before Lucius did. He had to hurry.  
  
  
  
Draco had just reached the entrance doors that would lead him outside into the dimming light when a voice cried after him. But he didn't stop as he jerked the door open and started to plunge out into the dusk. He was halted, however, when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. He was jerked backwards through the doors and stumbled to the floor. Filch was glaring at him darkly and Professor McGonagall was hurrying to meet them.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, just where do you think you were going?" The Professor's voice was sharp.  
  
"Professor, Hermione Granger is in Hogsmeade"  
  
"Nonsense," the stern woman interrupted, "Hermione Granger is a model student who is probably upstairs in her dorm room studying as we speak."  
  
"No you don't understand! She's there and she's in…" He had been about to say danger when he found himself suddenly unable to say anything.  
  
Professor McGonagall lowered her wand and glowered at Draco. "Not another word Mr. Malfoy! You have spent your entire existence at this school trying to make trouble for Hermione Granger and her friends."  
  
Draco stared at the professor in shock and tried again to say something, but it felt as if a great weight had been placed over his tongue. He made a sudden lunge towards the door but Filch had anticipated this and knocked him back to the floor.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall sighed, "the charm will wear off in a few minutes, and you shall return to your dorm. Well, go on!"  
  
Draco glared hatefully at his teacher before turning and walking to the stairs that would lead to the dungeon. He had no intention of going to his room however. He needed to find someway to get to Hogsmeade.  
  
He began to walk down the stairs, deeply in thought. There had to be something. He had to think. Draco stopped short. "Potter," he whispered out loud and then turned and dashed back up the stairs. Professor McGonagall was still standing in the foyer of the Great Hall talking to Filch and she called after Draco as he started up the next flight of stairs.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy! Where on earth do you think you're going now?"  
  
Draco didn't stop running though, not until he had gone up several flights of stairs and down two long corridors. He didn't stop until he reached the portrait that he had watched Hermione escape through on more than one occasion.  
  
"Let me in," he commanded to the portrait.  
  
"Password!" The woman cried out gleefully, almost as if she knew already that he didn't have one.  
  
"I don't have a password! But I need to get in! Let me in!" He yelled at the portrait.  
  
The woman in the pink dress frowned at him, "I can't let you in without a password."  
  
"I don't care about your password!" Draco slammed his fists against the portrait, "let me in!"  
  
There was an intake of breath from behind him and Draco spun to see Neville Longbottom standing at the end of the short hall that led to the portrait. His face was pale and he took a shaky step backwards.  
  
Draco lunged forward and caught Longbottom before he could escape. "Open it!" He ordered.  
  
"N…no…" Longbottom whimpered as Draco twisted his arm back behind his back.  
  
"I don't have time for this Longbottom. Open the damn door!" Draco barked trying hard not to picture Hermione in Hogsmeade, Hermione with Lucius.  
  
"Butterscotch buttons," Longbottom cried out as Draco twisted his arm even farther back.  
  
The portrait swung back to reveal the Gryffindor Common room, Draco didn't even pause to purvey this new place that he had never once in his life imagined that he would be. He walked in and stood in the center of the circular room. People were springing up in surprise and an angry roar was beginning to escalate.  
  
"Where's Potter?" He hissed, his low voice somehow undercutting the noise. "Where is Harry Potter?" He yelled when no one answered him.  
  
"You've got some nerve Malfoy."  
  
Draco spun and looked up; there upon an archway that overlooked the central room was Potter and Weasley.  
  
"How did you get to Hogsmeade?" Draco asked quickly walking towards them.  
  
"Did you think that you could just parade in here?" Potter growled.  
  
"Look Potter, I don't have time for this, tell me how you got to Hogsmeade in our third year!" Draco shouted up at him, although this wasn't necessary since the common room had gone deathly still.  
  
Potter looked taken aback, "What are you going on about?"  
  
"Potter, I swear that I will beat you to death if you don't tell me how you snuck into Hogsmeade!"  
  
Potter glanced at his red haired friend and then back down at Draco, he didn't understand what was happening.  
  
"Potter!" Draco roared, "I don't have time for this, she doesn't have time for this!"  
  
Potter and Weasley both paled at these words and they disappeared at one end of the walkway only to reappear across from Draco at the foot of a flight of stairs. They rushed up to Draco, grabbed his shoulders and roughly dragged him back through the portrait hole. As soon as the picture swung shut behind them, blocking the interested faces of the other Gryffindors, Potter shoved Draco against the wall.  
  
"What do you mean, she?" Potter said quietly.  
  
Draco glared at Potter, not wanting to admit anything to him.  
  
"Where's Hermione?" Weasley asked him coldly.  
  
"In Hogsmeade, Pansy and my father tricked her," Draco found that he had to tell them, for her sake.  
  
"Oh right, of course she is," Weasley said sounding somewhat relieved, as if what Draco was suggesting was impossible. "Like that little idiot Slytherin could trick Hermione. And even if she could, Hermione would never sneak off campus…" Weasley's voice trailed off and he looked at Potter. The two exchanged meaningful glances.  
  
"And I thought Slytherin was the house for rule breakers," Draco muttered.  
  
"Stay here with this git, I'll be right back." Potter told Weasley.  
  
"Hey!" Draco snapped at him, "you could at least think up some new names to call me."  
  
"Right, sorry, Ron, you stay here with this wanker and I'll be right back."  
  
Draco glared at them both. Potter went back through the portrait hole leaving Ron and Draco, who began to pace impatiently. Potter was gone only a moment or two when he popped back out from behind the portrait, clasped in his hand was an old scroll of parchment.  
  
"He's right, Hermione isn't anywhere in the school." Potter looked hard at Ron before continuing, "but she left the," he looked meaningfully at his friend again, "well you know what she left."  
  
"Oh bloody hell Potter! I know about the invisibility cloak." Potter and Weasley looked at him in astonishment. "What I need to know is how you snuck into Hogsmeade."  
  
"Like we would tell you!" Weasley snapped.  
  
"I need to save her." Draco said, trying to speak calmly.  
  
"Don't worry about it." Potter said coolly, "We'll go get her."  
  
Draco laughed harshly, "You don't even know where she would be."  
  
"Well we certainly aren't going to depend on you to save her." Potter told him mulishly.  
  
"I'm sorry Potter, I hadn't realized that you were so skilled at saving people. Funny, but I don't think Cedric Diggory would agree with you." It was a low blow; even Draco had to admit it.  
  
Potter's face turned several different shades of gray before settling upon a deep ashen color. Draco didn't even see his fist coming until Potter punched him squarely in the jaw with it. Draco stumbled backwards and fell down hard, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Potter looked rather stunned at his own actions.  
  
"Right then," Draco said, rubbing his quickly swelling cheek, "now that we've got the pissing contest out of the way, can we go?"  
  
Potter and Weasley glanced at each other and then Potter stepped towards Draco and extended his hand. Draco looked at it in something between disgust and awe. He finally accepted the peace offering and got to his feet. Potter then glanced at the piece of parchment that he had and nodded at Weasley who started down the hall. Draco peered interestedly over Potter's shoulder and for a moment saw something that looked like a map of the school, with tiny moving dots.  
  
"What is that?" He asked but Potter folded it back up quickly and glared at Draco.  
  
"Nothing that you need to know about Malfoy." Weasley grumbled.  
  
Potter pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag and unfurled it. Draco had to admit that it truly was a thing of beauty. Weasley joined Potter underneath it and they both disappeared, there was a heated exchange that was done in whispers and then a hand tightened on Draco's shoulder and he was pulled down and under the invisibility cloak. He huddled together with Potter and Weasley; they were painfully close.  
  
"Let's agree," Weasley muttered, his face scarlet, "to never speak of this again."  
  
'Agreed," Draco and Potter said simultaneously.  
  
"You know," Draco whispered as they paused to let a few students meander by them in a narrow hallway, "we don't really need the cloak since it's before curfew."  
  
"You're right, because we wouldn't look at all strange strolling the corridor with you," Potter replied sarcastically.  
  
They came to a sudden halt in front of a statue of a one-eyed witch. Draco eyed it suspiciously. Potter glared at him and Draco knew what it must have been costing them to give up so many secrets.  
  
"Watch the map," Potter said and Draco watched as Weasley studied the old faded parchment.  
  
Potter slipped out form under the cloak and removed his wand, he prodded the one-eyed witch, glanced back to where Draco was watching unseen and then leaned close to the statue and whispered to it. There was a scraping sound as the statue moved, revealing a dark hole.  
  
Weasley folded the map up and tucked it into his pocket. Draco pulled the cloak off of them and handed it to Potter.  
  
"We'd better hurry," Potter said softly and the three boys squeezed into the tunnel, the witch closed behind them.  
  
  
  
They had been walking for what seemed to be hours but Draco knew was really only about fifteen minutes. He glanced at his watch; it was almost eight, almost time for her to be there. He had let himself hope that maybe she wouldn't know where to go. But Hermione was very smart and Draco had finally dismissed this notion, she would figure it out somehow.  
  
Potter walked ahead of him, the tip of his wand glowing brightly. Weasley followed behind him taking up the rear. The redhead was almost bent double, the ceiling of the tunnel curved so low over their heads.  
  
"What does Lucius want with Hermione anyway?" Weasley huffed angrily.  
  
"Let me think, she's one of Potter's best friends, she's helped foil several of the Dark Lords plots, she's a muggle-born, and, oh yes, his only son and heir is involved with her. You're right, no reasons to hurt her there. Don't know what Lucius is thinking." Draco replied scathingly, he didn't know how Hermione managed to put with friends as dense as these.  
  
"If something happens to her…" Potter's voice trailed off, not wanting to voice his fears.  
  
"I know," Draco's voice was soft, the bite of his earlier words gone from his mouth, "I know."  
  
And he did know. It was his fault that she was there. She must have gone to stop him, to save him. Why did she have to be so virtuous, couldn't she have just let him go off and get himself killed if he wanted to? Couldn't she mind her own business? Draco felt nauseous. It was all his fault.  
  
"We're nearly there," Potter called over his shoulder.  
  
"Do you really know where to go?" Weasley asked him, a note of distrust in his voice.  
  
Draco decided that he wouldn't even deign the question with a response. If Weasley actually believed that Draco intended harm towards Hermione, he figured that the two Gryffindors would have left him in a broken heap by now and continued on without him.  
  
Draco ducked to avoid knocking his head into a particularly low outcropping; there was a muttered curse behind him as Weasley was obviously not as observant. Draco was beginning to marvel at the tenacity of these Gryffindors. They really were brave. Foolish, yes, but the bravery was astonishing. Hermione had rushed off into apparent danger believing that she had to save him and now her two best friends were willing to follow one of their most hated enemies into the fray to retrieve her. Draco found that he couldn't send them in unprepared.  
  
"There's a spell that you both need to know."  
  
Weasley snorted. But Potter paused to look back at Draco.  
  
"We found it, Hermione and I, in the books we've been studying for our Arithmancy project." Draco hated telling them this. He hated sharing anything about his time with Hermione with them. He hated sharing it with anyone.  
  
"Well it's comforting to know that you two have actually been doing some work." Weasley muttered darkly.  
  
"What type of wizard do you think I am anyway Weasley?" Draco snapped back at him.  
  
Weasley opened his mouth to tell him just what he thought of the Slytherin when Potter cut him off.  
  
"What type of spell Malfoy?"  
  
"Hopefully the type that will keep us alive long enough to rescue Hermione."  
  
  
  
_________________________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter. Please Read and Review!!! 


	29. Drinks with Lucius

*Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling, nothing to me!  
  
**Okay, chapter 29…Woo-Hoo! Okay, I think I can safely say that there will be one more chapter after this, and then a small epilogue. Seriously…I know that the number of chapters has changed a lot, but truly…the end is in sight. Not entirely though since a sequel is already in the works. (  
  
**** This is just a little side note from my weekend. I was at Disney with my beta reader, Vegeta. And I had hinted about a future conversation in my fic, but I didn't think he was being appreciative enough, so I wouldn't tell him. So he says to me (very gruffly)… "Woman! I bought you a soda, and found that t-shirt that you've been wanting for three weeks, now tell me about your damn fic!" It was just a very Vegeta-esque statement (for those of you familiar with the anime Dragon Ball Z). And I just thought that was amusing. (  
  
__________________________________________  
  
  
  
As Hermione awoke, she was instantly aware of one thing, something was very wrong. She moaned softly as a slicing pain erupted from the back of her head. There was a low chuckle.  
  
"I'm glad to see that you've finally woken up Ms. Granger, I was almost afraid that I had killed you." A silky voice filled with mirth sounded from very close by.  
  
Hermione's eyes shot open and with a surprising burst of adrenalin she got to her feet and lurched backwards. But her panicked strength couldn't withstand the white-hot agony that flooded her head at the sudden movement. Her vision was clouded by pain. Hermione stumbled into the wall behind her and slid back down to the floor with a whimper of barely containable pain.  
  
There was another chuckle, "I would suggest that you try not to over exert yourself, that's quite an injury you have. And there's no need for you to suffer needlessly child."  
  
Hermione opened hers eyes again, taking the time you survey her surroundings for the first time. She was in fairly small room. Not a dungeon or a cell like she would have imagined, but rather, an old fashioned sitting room. Not far from her there was a warm fire in a hearth. The wood-paneled floor was mostly hidden by a faded rug. The walls were covered in a shabby paper that might once have portrayed yellow flowers. On the far side of the room was a door, the only exit, as the windows seemed to have been boarded up in the not too distant past. The nails that held the shutters closed looked rather new and shiny. Near the door was a hall tree. Hanging from one of its many arms was her very own cloak. She felt an intense hysterical need to giggle, but fought against it.  
  
The only other occupant that the room contained was Lucius Malfoy who was sitting in a comfortable looking high-backed chair, a small table to his right where Hermione could see a crystal cut decanter holding some deep golden liquid. Next to the bottle was her wand. He watched her with amusement, a matching glass held loosely in his hand. The older Malfoy was ever so slightly twirling the snifter, the amber liquid swirling hypnotically about.  
  
"I don't suppose you'd like a drink?" He asked, almost kindly, as he followed her gaze.  
  
His tone made it seem as if she was nothing more than a guest who was showing deplorable manners. Hermione shivered, this benevolence was far more frightening than any thing she had ever experienced.  
  
"My son has a good eye, I'll give him that much." Lucius sipped his drink while his eyes swept Hermione up and down. "I wouldn't call you beautiful, but I can see how some might find you endearing."  
  
Hermione looked away from him with a shudder, as he continued to size her up.  
  
"Now while I've never approved of interactions with mudbloods of any kind, there are some among us who find that they have a taste for such commonness. While I might not have approved, I wouldn't have been ashamed of my son had he sought you out simply as a way to teach those Gryffindors a lesson." Lucius set his glass down on the table and removed his wand from his robe. "But you and I both know that that is not the case with Draco."  
  
Hermione slouched further against the wall, wishing desperately that she could simply fade into the cracks. She watched him twirl the wand carelessly in his fingers just as he had the glass, almost as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
"But no, that is certainly not the case," he repeated again the smile fading from his face. "I'm afraid that my son has become rather infatuated with you, thankfully I believe that it won't cause him reputable harm if it is put to a stop quickly. It will take him a while to undo the shame that he has caused to me and to our Lord, but in due time I believe that he can make his amends."  
  
Hermione's pale face broke into a glare, "he didn't want anything to do with your Lord long before me." She hissed.  
  
The smile was completely gone from Lucius' face now. His gray eyes that once Hermione would have thought similar to Draco's were nearly black with rage. He leisurely raised his wand.  
  
"Crucio" He whispered.  
  
Hermione had never felt anything like it in her life. All she knew was pain, every inch of her body, every fiber of being ached with excruciating hurt. She bit her lip without even realizing that she was fighting a scream. Tremors racked her body and her head bounced against the wall behind her. A shot of slicing stars emanated from the blow and she slumped to the ground thankfully unconscious.  
  
  
  
Something cool, and yet burning filled her mouth. With a splutter she swallowed and then shot to full awareness as the sting of alcohol permeated her throat.  
  
"I thought that might do the trick," Lucius held her chin with disdain. "I hope it wasn't something I said, I always worry about my conversation skills." A wicked smirk clouded his features and distantly Hermione was pleased to know that a smirking Draco did not resemble a smirking Lucius.  
  
She jerked her jaw out of his grasp and glared at him, ignoring the stinging pain in her head, "I wouldn't be worried about your people skills if I was you. Headmaster Dumbledore knows everything that goes on at Hogwarts, do you think that you can just kidnap a student and he wouldn't figure it out?"  
  
Lucius stepped back from her, chuckling. "True, true, Dumbledore is a rather omnipotent nuisance. But luckily for us, he is being coincidently detained in Lyon, a conference on the state of muggle affairs. He won't be returning for at least another hour. And that, my dear," Lucius cupped her cheek and looked closely at her, "is plenty of time for us to finish with our meeting."  
  
Hermione's lip trembled; there really was no hope. "Why don't you just go ahead and kill me then? Save the pleasantries for someone who doesn't know what you're capable of." Hermione's voice faltered on these words, she wished she could be stronger. "I'll bet you'll be greatly rewarded for killing one of Harry's allies." She said bravely.  
  
Lucius chuckled and got to his feet, he strode back to his table and set the decanter down before turning to back to her. "Let me assure you, Ms. Granger, that your death has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Although I will admit that shaking the Potter boy's fragile existence will be an added perk."  
  
Hermione could hardly believe her ears; she had always known that she was in danger by being Harry's friend. But to know that she was going to die for something that had nothing to do with him was almost laughable. She closed her eyes against the hopelessness of her situation. And then Lucius struck her.  
  
"Keep your eyes open girl, your distasteful parentage is no excuse for bad manners." His voice was just as calm and casual as it had ever been.  
  
She glared at him and found that she was overcome with the urge to do something very brave but also exceptionally stupid. Lucius recoiled from her as the bloody spit marred the hard perfection of his cheek.  
  
"Mudblood bitch," he hissed, the cool demeanor slipping slightly as he pulled a white handkerchief from his robes and removed her slight from his face. But when he lowered it, his visage had once again returned to that of the amused host. His smile did not reach his eyes however. "And to think, my son is willing to turn his back on his heritage for a little urchin like you. But that will be remedied soon enough, I do understand that he has reached a period in his life where rebellion is par for the course."  
  
"Draco has never wanted to be one of you." Hermione hissed, feeling the need to defend Draco's principles. "Do you think that just because you kill me that will change?" Her voice sounded defiant, but inside Hermione was quaking with much more than fear. It was becoming apparently harder to maintain any type of banter with the man who intended to kill her. Indeed, she was beginning to find it hard to keep her eyes open.  
  
"My dear child, this really has very little to do with you. Draco must learn that such petty feelings, especially for something as expendable as you, are only a temporary pleasure. Real satisfaction can only be attained through power. Once your charming presence is removed from my son's life, I have little doubt that he will once again see things my way." Lucius told her snidely.  
  
Hermione looked past Lucius to the diminutive table where her wand sat teasingly. If only she could reach it. But her head was pulsating and a few shudders were still shaking her body from the Cruciatus curse. And the table seemed so dishearteningly far away.  
  
Lucius, as if reading her thoughts, looked back at her wand and then grinned cruelly at her. "Think you could get to it? Go ahead and try, I won't stop you."  
  
She glared at him with the deepest hatred that she had ever felt and then suddenly tried to spring up. She might be about to die, but she wasn't going to just lie there on the ground at his feet while he did it. But despite Hermione's determination, her body was too weak to comply and her legs gave out before she reached the table. Falling to the ground, she lay collapsed on her side, the pain beginning to fade, which she found to be very odd. The effects of the Cruciatus curse were supposed to be agonizing for quite some time after the fact. But the ache in her joints seemed far away and dulled.  
  
Lucius snorted in mirth when she fell. His laughter was cold and lacked any true pleasure as if amusing as he found her antics, this was all far beneath him.  
  
Hermione felt, more than heard, him circle around her. His near silent footfalls making the old planks shift beneath his passing weight. She knew that she should be frightened, but Hermione was becoming so tired.  
  
He crouched down in front of her finally. "I think," he said softly, "that's it's time to finish this." He stood up and Hermione knew that it was over.  
  
He pointed his wand at her and Hermione couldn't even find the energy to stiffen for the killing curse. But before he could utter the spell there was a shout from somewhere outside the room and Lucius turned sharply towards the door.  
  
"Now what?" He hissed angrily as he stalked out into the hall.  
  
Hermione wanted to watch him, but her hair was in her eyes. She snaked a hand up to feebly brush it away. The sticky tendrils caught to her fingers and as she tried to push it back, she saw with nauseous horror that her fingers were red. The offending curls that were still clinging there were wet with her blood.  
  
There was more shouting but Hermione didn't really notice until Lucius fell back into the room with Draco following. There was a scuffle between the two and Draco struck his father, sending the older man to his knees.  
  
"Where is she?" He snarled as he grabbed the collar of Lucius' robes and lifted him off the floor before slamming him back down.  
  
Lucius broke loose of Draco's grip and brought his wand up, casting the Cruciatus curse for the second time that night.  
  
Hermione watched in terror as Draco fell to the ground in fit of seizures.  
  
His eyes rolled back into his head showing the milk white. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out his scream. Trying not to remember what it had felt like for her only a few minutes earlier.  
  
And then Lucius let the spell go. His stance was once again casual; he straightened his robes, and brushed a lock of flaxen hair back to where it had originally lain. If it weren't for the two inert forms on the floor of the room, things would have looked perfectly normal.  
  
"Draco, Draco, Draco," Lucius said with soft disapproval, "attacking an armed wizard with nothing but your fists. Have I taught you nothing?" Assuming his son to be in a Cruciatus stupor he turned his back on him and began to refill his glass.  
  
"I think I've just been spending to much time with Weasley," Draco hissed as he launched himself at his father. He knocked the surprised older wizard to the floor. His blows were so intense he began to draw his father's blood.  
  
Hermione watched from where she lay near the table, unable to call out. She felt tears prick at her eyes and a pained whimper sounded from deep in her chest.  
  
Startled, Draco looked in her direction. He thoughtlessly dropped Lucius and sprung towards her, knocking the table out of the way, the decanter shattering; it's drink staining the floor.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She couldn't see him as her eyes started closing on their own volition but there was a delicate pressure as he lifted her gently, his arm supporting her back as he kneeled next to her.  
  
"Hermione wake up." He whispered desperately. He ignored the body of Lucius as he titled her face towards him with his other hand. "Hermione please…" His voice started to shake as he noticed the blood on his hands.  
  
Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she smiled wanly at him, "Draco…"  
  
"Draco,"  
  
A hard voice drew their attention away from each other. Lucius had gotten to his feet. His wand pointed at them, the casual grip that he had used earlier was gone as he faced his son. Hermione felt Draco's arm tighten painfully around her but she was thankful for the pain, it stopped her from floating away.  
  
"Draco, get away from that mudblood trash," Lucius growled, his icy demeanor gone.  
  
Draco's wand was pointed at Lucius as well. His fingers leaving crimson stains on the wood. "Don't call her that."  
  
Lucius broke into a lewd grin, and then an amused chuckle. "Seriously Draco, this little game is quickly beginning to lose it's thrill. I'm ending this now."  
  
Draco tightened his grip and glared at Lucius, Hermione watched in fascinated horror as a muscle in Lucius' jaw twitched. There was more shouting from outside the room and Lucius risked a glance towards the door.  
  
"I didn't come here alone." Draco said.  
  
"Get away from her Draco, I won't tell you again." The veneer of coldness was cracking, as the shouting got closer, Lucius was looking extremely nervous.  
  
"Go to hell," Draco hissed at his father.  
  
"If this is how it must be," Lucius spared a moment to sound almost crestfallen before he cast the spell that Hermione had been expecting all evening. "Avada Kedavra"  
  
"arma immeritus!" Draco cried instantly as if he had known that it was going to come to this.  
  
Hermione saw the bolt of green light coming towards them, she saw the same shimmering cloud that Draco had seen only a few days before, she felt his arms tighten convulsively around her as he tried to shield her with himself. Then the green death struck and again, blackness overwhelmed her.  
  
  
  
"Wake up," an urgent voice insisted in her ear and Hermione struggled back to consciousness.  
  
She was still in Draco's arms, still in that old room, still alive. Draco gave a frantic sigh of relief and Hermione could tell that he was shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from fear or from using the spell. She twisted in his arms then, finding strength that she thought had left her long ago. There, on the far side of the room, was the body of Lucius Malfoy. His eyes stared without seeing at a point above them. His wand lay inches from the tips of his fingers. And with an epiphany of thought that one wouldn't expect from someone who was so hurt, Hermione knew that he was dead.  
  
Draco's hand cupped her cheek and he drew her attention back to him. His gray eyes were brimming with terrified worry. His skin was so pale, more ashen than she had ever seen it, even after the manticore had robbed him of so much blood.  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione," his voice sounded so broken, "it's my fault, I should have known that Pansy…"  
  
"Shh…" Hermione murmured gently. "Shh…" she repeated, unable to make her brain form the words that she needed to comfort him.  
  
He pulled her closer to him and kissed her, his mouth terribly soft against her own. She wasn't able to kiss him back, only distantly revel in the fact that he was here and that he was kissing her again. His breath was warm and heavy against her cheek and Hermione almost smiled in pleasure. He pulled away from her mouth and knelt his head against her chest, almost seeking comfort. He shook even harder and Hermione hoped that he wasn't crying. It would break her heart to have her Slytherin be so wounded.  
  
The ruckus from outside the room had died down. The door opened and hurried footsteps entered.  
  
"Hermione? Malfoy?" The voices were ones that she knew and loved.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry rushed to Draco's side with Ron right behind him.  
  
Harry was bleeding from a cut at his temple and Ron was holding his arm carefully, but they appeared all right. Hermione wanted to greet them, to tell them thank you for coming for her, but the room was getting hazy again. She felt so lightheaded, so tired, so far away.  
  
"Is she all right?" Weasley asked in a stricken tone.  
  
"She's hurt, I have to get her back to Hogwarts," Draco replied, his voice shaking.  
  
"Give her to me," Harry told him urgently.  
  
"Sod off Potter!" Draco hissed determinedly.  
  
"Perhaps, Misters Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy, I should take Ms. Granger to the hospital wing myself."  
  
The three boys looked up in surprise, Ron and Harry both spinning with lightening reflexes, their wands at the ready. But even in her near stupor, Hermione could recognize the voice of their Headmaster.  
  
Harry and Ron lowered their wands slowly, unsure of the Headmaster's presence, not trusting the miraculous appearance. But Draco seemed to realize almost as quickly as Hermione that this was indeed Albus Dumbledore. Draco sighed deeply, almost in defeat. Then the comforting arms of Draco seemed to be loosening and she cried against this, but she couldn't make a sound as she drifted further away. And as her eyes closed for the last time that night, she wondered distantly if she would wake up again.  
  
  
  
________________________________  
  
**There will be another chapter! Please Read & Review!!! 


	30. He Mele No Lilo

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
***Okay…new chapter! Sorry that this took so long. I was blocked for about a week, then I was on vacation (not that that really is an excuse seeing as how I have a laptop), and then ffnet was broken. Anyhoo, I've decided to make my epilogue just a last chapter. So ignore all that epi. crap that I've been mentioning. The next chapter with be the LAST chapter. It is official. :-)  
  
****Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I appreciate it so much. And a special thanks to Kenzie who always defends me very vigorously against all criticism. :-)  
  
________________________________  
  
  
  
It was a bad time. He stood in the hospital wing with Potter, and Weasley. Their wounds paled in comparison to hers. There were several tense moments, and whispered worries from behind the curtain. And then, to add to their fears, Dumbledore came into the hospital wing with something that none of the boys had ever seen in Hogwarts; a specialist from St. Mungo's.  
  
Draco had felt sick, well, sicker than he already did at any rate. And Potter seemed to see this for he turned to the Slytherin.  
  
"She'll be all right," he told Draco softly.  
  
Weasley nodded in agreement and Draco felt strangely comforted. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but he decided then that there were worse wizards on the Earth and as much as he disliked then, Potter and Weasley weren't quite so bad. And he had to give Hermione credit, she might have a pair of idiots for friends, but few could have held their own against a couple of Death Eaters.  
  
The tension in the room was becoming almost palpable by the time the Headmaster finally pulled back the curtain and slipped out. For a moment there was no twinkle in his blue eyes and Draco decided that he didn't want to hear it. He would rather stay forever in the Hospital wing outside of the curtain that separated the two of them rather than find out she was gone.  
  
"She's going to be fine."  
  
Dumbledore's voice stilled all of these thoughts in Draco's mind. He noticed then that Weasley was paler than he had ever seen him and that Potter's hands had been so tightly clenched together that his knuckles were white and a crimson tinge, that might have been blood had Draco gotten a closer look, marred his palms.  
  
"It was rather close there as you can imagine," The Headmaster continued, "it wasn't Cruciatus, although the lingering effects of that curse can plague a body for days, but rather the damage done to her skull was, as Madame Pomfrey put it, most severe."  
  
The curtain was pulled open again and the wizard from St. Mungo's walked out. He nodded at Professor Dumbledore, "Albus, if there's nothing else I must be on my way. I've left instructions with Madame Pomfrey, bandages won't be necessary as long as she continues with the Claustrium charm on every half hour for the next twelve hours."  
  
"You have my deepest thanks Tyler, please give my regards to Betta and the girls." The Headmaster gripped the doctor's hands and smiled.  
  
Madame Pomfrey pulled open Hermione's curtain again, leaving it agape, and the boys were able to see her for the first time since the Headmaster had taken the girl from them in Hogsmeade. She was terribly pale, her dark hair fringing a pallid face. There was no trace of the blood that had stained her skin earlier that evening. She was no longer wearing her school robes but a white hospital gown that made her seem even frailer. But Draco, in his relief, never thought she had looked better.  
  
After the specialist left, the Headmaster turned back to the boys, "Poppy, I do believe that Misters Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy will be needing your attention as well."  
  
"Of course Headmaster," She said as she went to Ron first, his obviously broken arm the most noticeable injury.  
  
"And you Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore took Draco's arm and led him to a bed near Hermione's, "you will be needing your rest I imagine."  
  
Draco leaned against the bed, not wanting to sleep, but finding the softness against him overwhelming.  
  
"Once we are all as we should be," the Headmaster said softly, "I believe that you and Ms. Granger have some very interesting news for me. There are many things that need to be explained, but there will be time enough for that later." Professor Dumbledore glanced down the hospital wing to where a closed door was at the far end.  
  
Draco knew what was beyond that door; he knew what was in that room. For Draco had been watching when that half-giant had brought in the body of Lucius. But he had been to worried about Hermione to think much of it and as he had laid back onto the hospital bed, he found that he would much rather put thinking about it off just a little while longer. At least until the next morning when the sun was up, the sky bright, and the cold emptiness of his father's dead eyes not so chilling.  
  
  
  
The morning was radiant and clear. Draco was pleased to wake up before the two Gryffindor boys that were there. He looked quickly to Hermione, but she hadn't moved at all. Her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut and her body still lay curled on its side. With the light of the new day, Draco could see a dark bruise marking her otherwise pale cheek. He felt white- hot rage as he looked at Lucius' handiwork. And then a nervous flutter of tension as he thought about what might have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time.  
  
"She's not awake yet?"  
  
Caught off guard, Draco spun back on his bed to glare at Potter who was sitting up, scratching his head sleepily, in the bed next to his.  
  
"Actually Potter, she's already been up. Ran down to the library to catch up on the homework that she didn't get to do last night and just popped back in a moment or two ago for a little nap." Draco told him sourly.  
  
"Was' going on?" Another voice mumbled as Weasley, farther on down the hall, pushed his blanket back.  
  
"Malfoy is just trying his hand as a comedian," Potter said to his friend.  
  
"Not going over to well with the audience is he?" Weasley asked as he looked at Potter's annoyed face.  
  
The door to Madame Pomfrey's office opened and the nurse marched past them to Hermione's bedside. She held her wand at the base of Hermione's head and said a spell. She then turned to check on the boys.  
  
"Well you are all looking a might better I dare say." She said kindly as she checked Ron's repaired arm. "I think that you two might even be able to pop on down to the Great Hall for breakfast if you hurry."  
  
Weasley practically flew out of his bed. But then he stopped and looked at Hermione, "Couldn't we stay until she wakes up?"  
  
Potter nodded in agreement as he stumbled out of his own bed and began pulling his school robes on top of his hospital gown.  
  
"What, and have you two under foot all afternoon?" The nurse pulled a curtain around the boys so that Potter and Weasley could get dressed.  
  
"But why does he get to stay?" Weasley complained shoving the curtain aside and motioning at Draco who was still sitting in bed.  
  
"Because he is suffering from a severe level of exhaustion and I don't trust him to get any decent rest down there in that dungeon of theirs. Too wet and drafty, no good at all." She then forcibly headed them towards the door.  
  
Draco for his part put on a pained expression and yawned deeply as the nurse mentioned his many ailments. But as soon as Madame Pomfrey had her back turned, he winked slyly at the departing boys.  
  
Potter opened his mouth to say something nasty to Draco but the nurse gripped his shoulder in what was most likely a very tight pinch seeing as how Potter blanched and then slouched from the room in silence, Weasley in tow.  
  
Draco settled back comfortably, a victorious smile spread wide across his face. But once the heavy door had closed behind the departing Gryffindors, Madame Pomfrey turned to Draco with a gaze that could freeze brimstone.  
  
"Don't get too cocky Mr. Malfoy." She told him sternly as she approached with a potion of dreamless sleep.  
  
"I really don't think that's…" Draco tried to counter as the nurse grabbed his chin.  
  
Madame Pomfrey snorted as she forced the cool drink into his mouth. "There now," she said in a gentle, if somewhat patronizing voice, "that's better now isn't it?"  
  
Draco glared at her smiling face. She obviously was unimpressed by his lineage. He wasn't able to become very annoyed over this however. The draught was already working its will and Draco was yet again fighting against his body's desire for sleep. With a grumble of defeat he settled back down and the nurse bustled away. And he gazed back over at Hermione.  
  
  
  
Draco angrily pushed his food around on his plate, his fork scraping the bottom of the china. He seemed to be the subject of interest for most of his fellow students. It didn't help that no one really seemed to know what had happened. Not the other students, not the Headmaster, not Potter or Weasley, Draco himself was even unsure of the events of the night before last.  
  
He looked up from his half eaten lunch as Crabbe and Goyle settled into their usual seats on either side of him. They looked about to say something but both stopped. What could they say really? His father was dead, that much they must know, but reports that he had been helping Potter and Weasley were held in high disbelief by most of the students in Hogwarts.  
  
Draco looked down the length of the table, taking in the other Slytherins. Unlike the rest of the rowdy students, many of the Slytherins were somber and quiet. He looked at the seat across from him, and not surprisingly, Pansy wasn't there.  
  
The Gryffindor table was just as raucous as they normally were, even with Weasley and Potter absent. Draco hadn't seen them since yesterday morning in the Hospital Wing. Whether they had snuck back in with the invisibility cloak like he had expected, he didn't know. The dreamless sleep potion had rendered him completely comatose for the rest of the evening.  
  
And just as the wonder boys had been forced from the Hospital Wing yesterday, Draco had met with the same exile when he had awoken that morning. While Hermione slept on unknowing.  
  
Draco stood up abruptly, startling Crabbe and Goyle who were still trying to think of something to start a prying conversation with, and strode from the Slytherin table. His steps were certain and his expression calmly sardonic as he strode out of the dining hall. He stopped abruptly once the doors had closed behind him though.  
  
At the foot of one staircase were Potter, Weasley, and Weasley's sister. They appeared to be arguing, the two Weasleys especially. As Draco watched, he saw Potter becoming less involved with the fray. Weasley grabbed his sister's shoulder as the heated exchange escalated. The girl had suddenly spied Draco over the shoulder of her brother and he decided then that he wasn't really in the mood for a scene so he turned to head down to the dungeons. But he stopped when he saw the young girl hit her brother's shoulder, forcing him to withdraw the controlling hand that he had placed on her.  
  
"Malfoy," she called and sprinted towards him. She looked him up and down when she reached him, sizing him up.  
  
"Was there something you wanted?" He asked almost nicely, not really having anything against the girl other than the fact that she was another Gryffindor Weasley.  
  
The girl bit her lip and looked back at her brother and Potter who were both wearing very guarded expressions. "She's awake," she said finally in a tumble of words. "I…I just thought that you should know."  
  
Draco nodded his thanks silently, he spared a moment to glare at Potter and Weasley, mentally taking back any thought that they might be somewhat all right, before turning and heading to the hospital wing.  
  
  
  
"But I'm not hungry Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"Nonsense! I will not have anyone starving in here as long as I'm in charge of the hospital wing!"  
  
Draco stood just on the outside of the open door, unbelievably pleased to hear Hermione's voice, annoyed as it was at the moment.  
  
"I am not starving! Ron brought me some toast earlier." Her voice was trying to achieve its normally bossy tone, but she was obviously still to weak to put much into it.  
  
"Toast? That's not nutritious enough! Here, have some porridge dear."  
  
Draco grimaced as he remembered that very same goop that Madame Pomfrey had forced him to eat earlier that day before she had expelled him from the hospital wing. With a sense of anticipation, Draco stepped into the room.  
  
"Really Granger, it's not that bad. Once you get past the color, texture, and taste, it's quite good."  
  
Madame Pomfrey made an exasperated sound and stalked into her office. Hermione just stared up at him from where she lay on the bed; a look that Draco didn't really understand in her eyes.  
  
"Draco," she said softly.  
  
He stood in the doorway feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "You're awake," he said stupidly.  
  
Hermione looked down, "yes," she replied unnecessarily.  
  
"That's good, everyone was worried." Draco was feeling more idiotic by the second.  
  
Hermione smiled slightly and glanced at the table next to her bed, which, Draco had just noticed, was brimming over with assorted treats and stacks of books, "yes, I had gathered that."  
  
"Gryffindor Tower strikes again," Draco muttered as he approached the table, but his words held no bite. "What, did they just grab half the Divination section?" He held up a book contemptuously and read, "Is It In The Cards? A Witches Guide to Romantic Entanglements," and then with even more disgust, "Palmistry of Love. You don't really read this stuff do you?" His voice was incredulous.  
  
"No, of course not, Lavender and Parvarti must have sent those with Ron and Harry when they found out that I was awake." She smiled weakly and settled back against her pillow.  
  
Draco looked at her, really looked at her, and felt guilty. It was his fault that she was in here after all. It was his fault that a dark bruise marred her pretty face. It was his fault that her skin was alabaster wrapped in cotton. He had never seen her so pale. Hermione was always warm and brown in his mind, not wraithlike and colorless.  
  
"What is it?" She asked anxiously.  
  
He almost flinched, when had it become so easy to read him? "I was just wondering why you didn't have Madame Pomfrey remove that bruise."  
  
"Oh," she flushed and Draco was pleased to see some color in her cheeks. "I just thought that, well it would be silly to have her magic it off. It wouldn't change things, at least this way I've got something to show. Does that sound strange?"  
  
"I don't think so," He replied seriously, marveling once again over the girl in the bed.  
  
He continued to study her and she looked away from him shyly. A thought seemed to occur to her because she began to chew her lower lip, a sure sign that something was on her mind.  
  
"Your father," she started but then paused nervously. "He is dead, isn't he?"  
  
Draco nodded, hating his father more than he ever had. He wondered if what had happened in Hogsmeade would haunt her always. Would she always be afraid of him? Would seeing him always make her think of Lucius? But her next words completely shocked him.  
  
"I'm so sorry." Hermione said shakily as an escaped tear fled down her cheek.  
  
"Sorry?" Draco moved quickly to her side and looked down at her imploringly. "Why are you sorry?"  
  
Hermione sniffled, "because your father is dead."  
  
Draco almost laughed. His muffled snort did serve to draw her out of her tears though, "Hermione, he tried to kill you. He got what he deserved." He cupped her cheek and made her look at him. "Do you understand? I'm not sorry that he's dead." And with these words he leaned closer to her and brushed his lips against her forehead. She whimpered against him and he pulled back quickly. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
"No"  
  
Draco noticed for the first time that her eyes were unchanged. Her eyes were that same light brown that he had become so accustomed to. He wanted to pick her up, collect her into his arms and spin her around for still being the same girl inside despite her appearance. But the Malfoy side of him assured him that not only would this be an improper course of action, but that she was also still too sore to appreciate it. So not wanting to incur the wrath of Madame Pomfrey were she to find him practically on the bed with Hermione; Draco turned and pulled a chair over to her bedside and settled himself into it. They didn't speak for a few minutes as he sat and looked at her.  
  
"Draco," she said suddenly, "did you kill him?"  
  
"I don't think so," he replied truthfully.  
  
"Then was it O'Leary's spell?" She asked with interest.  
  
"That's what we're going to talk about." Said a voice from the doorway.  
  
Draco and Hermione both looked up at the new voice. The Headmaster was beaming at them from a few steps away. Draco hated it when he sneaked up on them. The old coot must have silence charms on every single part of his body.  
  
"How are you feeling Ms. Granger? Better, I hope?" He asked kindly as he came to stand next to them.  
  
Hermione nodded without speaking. She was studying the Headmaster with deep interest.  
  
"I believe that the best place to start would be for the two of you to tell me about your intriguing discovery." The Headmaster prompted amiably as he summoned a chair for himself.  
  
Draco looked to Hermione, who nodded at him, before he started to recount the story of their work. While he found himself reveling in revealing such information to the obviously impressed Headmaster, part of him hated it. He was giving away himself, and her too. For what they had done in their room belonged to them, was them, and Draco hated sharing it.  
  
When Draco had finally finished the Headmaster was nodding, a small, triumphant gleam in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, yes, I had suspected as much." Professor Dumbledore stood and wandered aimlessly about deep in thought. He stopped and looked back at them, "I have long been interested in the Knights of Aequitus, they had intrigued me. They were noble men fighting a dark enemy. And they eventually were triumphant, but the means that they used to achieve their goals ended up being as gruesome as that of their adversary. And with the rise of Voldemort, their struggle seemed even more pertinent."  
  
"History repeats," Hermione said simply.  
  
"I truly hope that we never have to stoop to such levels." The Headmaster said quietly.  
  
Draco noticed that the Dumbledore hadn't said that they wouldn't though.  
  
"When I came across a few essays written by O'Leary, I thought that they might be of some use so I acquisitioned the entire collection for the school."  
  
"You knew," Hermione said slowly as realization fully struck. "You knew it was there, the spell."  
  
"Yes, I knew of rumors that told of a spell that could block the killing curse or," Dumbledore paused, "return it."  
  
"You mean that it just sent his own curse flying back him?" Draco asked.  
  
"So it would seem. An inquiry from the ministry has already started. Several aurors were dispatched to the house where your father had been using as a waypoint in Hogsmeade. They were only able to find the residue of one killing curse, not two." The Headmaster stopped to offer Hermione a piece of candy.  
  
Draco digested this piece of information slowly. He hadn't killed Lucius, not really. But the ministry had started an inquiry and Draco knew enough of the wizarding legal system to fully understand what that might mean for him.  
  
"How much trouble should I expect?" Draco asked simply.  
  
Hermione looked up in surprise, "trouble, why should you be in any trouble?" She glanced at Dumbledore who was studying Draco very closely. "Headmaster, he can't get into any trouble, it was Lucius who cast the curse that killed him. Draco was protecting me. He didn't, he didn't do anything wrong. Please Professor Dumbledore," Hermione's voice was becoming quite panicked as the elderly wizard simply looked at Draco.  
  
Dumbledore finally turned his gaze to hers and smiled, "don't worry Ms. Granger, I have no intention of letting the ministry anywhere near either of you."  
  
He turned the smile towards Draco and for the very first time, Draco felt that he might understand where all of Hermione's admiration for their Headmaster might come from.  
  
"Now I must ask of you both to closely guard what you know." Dumbledore turned to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue and said, "I have little doubt that this knowledge will soon become known to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, if it isn't already," here he gave Draco a penetrating glance. "And I'm sure that it will also manage to trickle out to various relations such as certain wayward Godfather's, but I ask you to tell only who you must. This is very valuable information that the two of you possess. Do you understand?"  
  
Draco and Hermione both nodded silently, under the deep gaze of their Headmaster, there seemed to be nothing else to say. At the moment, surprise was there best defense against Voldemort. And having some of his superlative spells suddenly become useless would certainly be advantageous to the side of Potter and his friends.  
  
The Headmaster put a small candy in his mouth and then smiled at Hermione. "My dear Ms. Granger, I had almost forgotten, you're parents should be arriving here in a few hours."  
  
"What?" Hermione gasped in surprise, "but they're supposed to be in Ireland, attending a conference."  
  
"Once they were notified of the incident, they decided to cut their trip short." The Headmaster paused for a moment as if knowing that what he was going to say would upset the young woman. "I am under the impression that they intend to take you home with them."  
  
Draco's eyes widened, school was almost over, that was true, but he had anticipated spending the last week or so with Hermione. He hadn't ever thought how her parents might react to all of this. Neither, apparently, had Hermione.  
  
"But…but Headmaster, what about exams?" Her voice quavered dangerously, "what about OWLs?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled, "I do not think that they intend to pull you out of school child. I believe that they just want to make sure that you are properly cared for. I know that no nurse has ever tended a wound better than a mother. And as for your finals, I have spoken with all of your professors; they have all agreed that other arrangements can be made. As far as OWLs are concerned, there is a make up exam offered in early June."  
  
Hermione still looked on the verge of bursting into tears, but she took a few steadying breaths and calmed down. "Thank you Professor." She said softly.  
  
"No Ms. Granger, thanks belong to you, to both of you." The elderly wizard stood up then and headed towards the door.  
  
A question that had bothering Draco for a day suddenly came to mind, "Headmaster?" Draco asked as he stood as well. "How did you know that we were in Hogsmeade?"  
  
Hermione watched interestedly as Professor Dumbledore turned back to them.  
  
"That is a very good question Mr. Malfoy." His blue eyes twinkled, "Ms. Parkinson was waiting for me when I returned early from my own conference. She was quite distraught when I found her, apparently she had been misled by your father."  
  
Draco laughed derisively, "that little bint? She knew what she was doing."  
  
"I don't think so Mr. Malfoy." The Headmaster's eyes were steady; "she wouldn't be the first to fall victim to Lucius Malfoy's administrations. I think that she is fairly innocent in the harm caused to Ms. Granger, and I have always regarded myself as a fairly good judge of character." He turned then and strode out the door, leaving the two alone.  
  
"Good judge of character?" Draco laughed sarcastically as the door closed behind the headmaster. "That from the man who hired Lockhart."  
  
Hermione laughed, and Draco turned back to look at her. "So you're leaving." He said simply.  
  
"I guess so," she replied evenly as she studied the blanket covering her.  
  
"That'll be nice, to get to go home early," he said non-convincingly as he slouched back into his chair.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose," she replied equally unsure. "Draco," she stopped and bit her lip.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What about us?" She asked without looking up, her face beginning to redden.  
  
"What about us?" Draco snapped back sharply. He hated questions like these. Not only because he wasn't fully sure of what she was asking of him but also because he didn't know if he knew any answers.  
  
She looked up glaring at his tone, "is this all done then? When I come back in the fall, will everything be as it was between us?"  
  
Draco almost grinned in relief. He knew the answer to this question. "You obviously know very little about Malfoys, Granger." Draco said and took her hand in his. "We never let go of something that belongs to us."  
  
Hermione let his words sink in for a moment. "You know Malfoy, it's a good thing that I find you somewhat charming or I might have just slapped you for that."  
  
"I know"  
  
Draco leaned across the bed and gently kissed her. His lips hardly touching her and yet he felt all the passion underneath it. He leaned back and smirked superiorly at her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You think I'm charming."  
  
"Oh shut up," but Hermione was grinning.  
  
"Well, I did tell you that I'm the most charming bloke in the school."  
  
_______________________________  
  
**Please Read & Review!!! 


	31. Brilliant Words

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling, nothing to me.  
  
*** Well, here we go, the last chapter of Their Room. *Sniffles* Can you believe that it's been a whole year since I started this thing?  
  
This is awfully short, I know. But it was originally meant to be an epilogue. But epilogues just sound so final, don't they? And since there might be a sequel (MIGHT, not making any guarantees) I thought it best to just have this be a chapter. There are more notes at the bottom.  
  
________________________________________________________  
  
Hermione sat up with a start and rolled off her bed quickly, a stack of books that she had pushed to the foot of her bed the night before tumbled to the ground. The noise made her stop; she hadn't overslept, she wasn't late for exams, she was home and Hogwarts had finished giving exams almost two weeks ago.  
  
With a frustrated groan, Hermione collapsed back onto the bed. She had been waking up like this every day since her parents had collected her from Hogwarts. Hermione just couldn't convince herself that she didn't need to get up so early to make it to breakfast in the dining hall or to rush off to the library for a few more desperate minutes of study.  
  
She was still adjusting to being home for the summer. Even though school was officially finished, Hermione still felt that she should be there completing her exams or taking her OWLs.  
  
She had hated leaving, but her parents had been adamant when they had finally arrived at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had then brought up from Hogsmeade where they had taken the train from London.  
  
One look at her mother's determined face had left no hope for argument when the Grangers had swooped into the hospital wing. Her mother had glared at Hermione as if blaming her for getting into trouble and then had broken down into tears. Hermione wasn't use to seeing her mother so emotionally distraught. Both of her parents lived calm, sedate lives in London suburbia. The most exciting thing to have ever happened to either of them was Hermione's being a witch and they had accepted that with open arms. Neither of the Grangers were known for emotional outbursts, but there was Hermione's mother, hysterically clutching her only child and asking in a very shaky voice, just what had she been thinking?  
  
There was a light sound against Hermione's bedroom door and she sat up again. Crookshanks butted his way into the room, a slice of fat bacon clamped tightly in his jaws. He jumped lightly onto the bed and dropped the bacon onto Hermione's pillow while he paused to straighten down a rosette of his orange hair that was sticking up before he returned his attention back to his meal.  
  
"Breakfast already Crookshanks?" Hermione purred and ruffled her cat's fur, nonplussed about the bacon grease staining her blue pillowcase.  
  
The cat made no reply and Hermione slid off her bed once again and pulled a sweater over her head. She always thought that her father liked to keep the house a bit too cold, even in the summer. She headed down the stairs deeply in thought.  
  
She hadn't gotten to see much of Harry and Ron before leaving Hogwarts. Her parents had wanted to take her home right away; her friends had only just managed to catch them in the Entrance Hall on their way out. She hadn't seen Draco since he had left the hospital wing only moments before her parents had arrived. Not that Hermione had expected him to meet her parents. She had a hard time picturing Draco politely nodding while her father explained the mechanics of proper dental surgery, but she had felt terribly abandoned when he had given her hand a squeeze and then disappeared behind the white linen curtain. He had seemed almost afraid to touch her, afraid that she might break. Hermione had almost grabbed his retreating arm and pulled him back down onto the bed with her to show him just how far from fragile she really was. But in the few moments where such a bold act might have been accomplished, Hermione's sense propriety had reared its head. And Draco had left with things feeling horribly unfinished.  
  
Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs and passed the large parlor on the right and headed towards the kitchen where the aroma of breakfast was already slinking down the hallway to greet her. Not surprisingly, the Granger's household was as neat and efficient as their daughter. Breakfast was put out at seven sharp every morning except for Saturday when her parents would go together for a late morning stroll, thus postponing breakfast until ten. It had been this way for as long as Hermione could remember and the schedule was refreshing after half a year away at Hogwarts where her eating plans depended on her study schedule and the wishes of Harry and Ron.  
  
"Good morning dear," her parents chorused together as she appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Good morning Mom, Dad." Hermione replied.  
  
The Grangers were sitting at the kitchen table reading newspapers. They had long ago discovered that their marriage was a much happier one when they each got their own copy of the morning's paper rather than try to patiently wait for the other to finish it. Two identical headlines faced Hermione from either side of the table. She filled her plate with a helping of eggs and a few strips of bacon, but she wasn't feeling very hungry.  
  
She had already talked to Harry and Ron after arriving home. In fact, a letter had been waiting for her before she had even gotten there. Her father had carried her, despite protestations that she wasn't that hurt, up the stairs to her room and there, waiting impatiently was little Pig. The letter that the excited owl had brought contained only a few lines from her friends. But they were heartwarming nonetheless. Harry and Ron had promised to give her every gory detail of their exams and had added that studying wouldn't be the same without her color-coded notes. The letter had brought a smile to her face, as did all the others that had followed it over the past couple of weeks.  
  
But she hadn't heard from Draco.  
  
But oh, she had heard of Draco. She still got the Daily Prophet delivered every morning and for several days after her departure, the death of Lucius Malfoy had made the front cover every day. Her mother hadn't wanted Hermione to read it, exclaiming that she had been through enough over that man as it was, but Hermione had insisted.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore was good to his word for neither Hermione or Draco was ever mentioned in the paper. At first his death was listed as unknown. The papers said that he had been congregating with a few friends for a business meeting in Hogsmeade. God forbid that there be a mention of death eaters. Eventually the authorities had deemed his death an accident caused by a rare malfunction in his wand. Hermione had figured that any malfunction that may have been discovered in Lucius Malfoy's wand had been added after his demise.  
  
The funeral had been held a few days after she had left school. Lucius was buried in the family mausoleum that sheltered its ancient dead on the edge of the Malfoy grounds. The Daily Prophet had reported that it was one of the most well attended funerals of the decade, second only to that of Betty Betchel, beloved socialite and founder of Witch Weekly. Hermione had spent more time that she would admit watching the wizard photo of Draco and his mother as they sat somberly greeting people that was in the Prophet the day after the funeral. But the picture Draco had never looked up from his dismal duty.  
  
After the sensational funeral where Cornelius Fudge himself gave the eulogy, readers began to lose interest in his death. The Daily Prophet pushed back articles about his life and unfortunate passing deeper into the paper; the second page, then the fourth, and so on until one morning, Hermione could find no mention of him at all.  
  
She pushed the eggs around her plate with a fork, making little yellow piles. It just wouldn't do to dwell on it, on any of it. She should spend her time more productively, studying for the OWLs makeup that she would be taking in another week. Hermione Granger did not pine.  
  
A flutter of wings through the window didn't even make her parents look up from their papers as the Daily Prophet owl glided towards the table. But before it could land, another owl, dark gray and large, bowled past it importantly. It landed in front of Hermione and snapped its beak at the other owl as if it were intruding. It turned its attention back to Hermione as the Daily Prophet owl hung back respectively. The gray owl held out its leg pompously and waited for Hermione to remove the letter that hung there.  
  
A smile of realization dawned on Hermione's face, she knew of only one person who would have such an egotistical owl. "Draco," she breathed as she pulled the letter loose.  
  
"Draco?" Her mother asked glancing at her over the top of the paper.  
  
"I don't remember a Draco," Her father added from the other side of the table, a trace of vague interest in his voice.  
  
"He's my." Hermione paused because she didn't think that there was a proper term for just what Draco was. "He's my friend, from school." She amended finally.  
  
Hermione's mother folded her paper and sent her daughter a questioning look. But Hermione wasn't going to stay for the quiz. She grabbed a piece of toasted raisin bread off of a plate before bolting up the stairs. Her parents exchanged a look and a knowing smile before returning to their papers.  
  
The letter was written on crisp white parchment, an embossed shield portraying a fire-breathing dragon marked one corner. Hermione looked unseeing at the strict print that Draco used. She had been unsure if she would see it again, but here it was.  
  
  
  
Hermione,  
  
I meant to write earlier but things have been busy here at the Manor as you can imagine. Can you believe all the fuss that everyone has been going to over his death? And the turn out at the funeral was far more than I had expected. Although I wouldn't be surprised if half of our concerned visitors were there to make sure the old bastard was really dead rather than pay their last respects.  
  
Mother is fine. Everything that Pansy had said was a lie. You were right. She's better than fine as it turns out. It would seem that she has become rather friendly with her Quidditch coach over at the club. Friendly might not be a strong enough term for it, let's just say that my mother has been participating in some very un-widow like activities. She is taking Lucius' death very well, so well in fact that if we had stuck him in the ground, I think she would be dancing on his grave every night. Or perhaps, even more seedy things with that coach of hers, but I'd rather not dwell on that.  
  
The lawyers have been hell. No one expected the money and estate to be transferred to me at such a young age. But I'm hardly complaining. I've always enjoyed being disgustingly wealthy, and now it's all in my name. Lucius never trusted my mother with money, so it's not terribly surprising that almost all of the fortune went to me.  
  
Exams went well. Potions especially, it was hilarious, that nit Longbottom spilled his potion and melted off half of Snape's robe. Of course, you probably don't find that funny at all, do you? I can just picture you telling me not to laugh at Longbottom. I suppose that he can't really help being an idiot.  
  
I was thinking that perhaps, when you're feeling up to it, that you might like to come and see the Manor. Stay a day or two if you're willing. I know what you must be thinking, how can I possibly ask you to come visit a place known for various inequities and many dark, dastardly plots. But just think how much fun it would be to have Lucius spinning in his grave.  
  
Just think about it. I have all of our work here. Dumbledore sent it day after I got home. He's either very smart, or much more crazy than I had believed. Actually, it's probably a combination of the two. But if Dumbledore still approves of us working together, how can you not? He is your hero, after Potter, anyway. Just think about it.  
  
Draco  
  
  
  
Hermione closed the letter and leaned back in her chair at the desk. A smile was splayed across her face and she felt better than she had in days. But going to the Manor? She didn't know if she was up for that. Wouldn't the pureblood walls rise up and crush her for her temerity?  
  
There was a gentle knock on her door and her mother peered in at her. "Hermione, this came for you after you left the table." In her hands was a wrapped package.  
  
Hermione frowned slightly as she took the parcel from her mother, not knowing why someone would be sending her something. Her mother walked back out, giving Hermione some privacy.  
  
She pulled the paper off carefully, keeping the wrapped package at arms length. She knew enough of the wizard world to not trust things at face value. But as the paper disappeared, she recognized the dark green leather binding to be a book. Excitedly Hermione pulled off the rest of the paper and stared at her own name imprinted across the front of it. Trimmed with crimson and written in gold letters was the title A Translation and then under that was Volume I of the Gregorius O'Leary Journals by Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.  
  
She stared down at it in disbelief. With shaking hands she carefully opened the book and began to rapidly flip through the pages. They were hand printed; Draco's again, and only filled half the book. The rest was left open and blank. On the very first page he had written her a message.  
  
"It's only a rough draft of course. We are supposed to be keeping our discoveries a bit of a secret. But Dumbledore thinks that in a year or two, we could actually publish. I started working on it as soon as you left school. I think that it has come out very well."  
  
There was more, just a few more words. Hermione couldn't be sure but she thought that he had added them on later after much consideration. The slant to his letters seemed different than the rest of note. Hermione decided that she would ask him when she got to the Manor, because she had suddenly decided that she was going. How could she not after all? For at the end of his message were three brilliant little words.  
  
"I miss you."  
  
  
  
___________________________________________________  
  
Notes!!!  
  
There were a few things that I wanted to address that some people mentioned in reviews. Just a few that I feel deserve an explanation.  
  
As for all the people that complained about my grammar and spelling (some of you not nearly as politely as you should have). I always stated that grammar was not a skill that I possess. I think much faster than I can type, so thus things get muddled and words get misplaced and commas just disappear. I try very hard to rectify this problem, but I'm only human. I do have a beta reader, who is only human. And I do use a spell check, made by Microsoft, darn thing won't even recognize Zen as a word. So please, people, find something more monumental to be upset over. :-)  
  
A few people asked about the title of the last chapter, He Mele No Lilo, this is actually the title of a song from the Lilo and Stitch soundtrack. I couldn't think of a title.the song was playing on winamp.. You get the idea.  
  
Jadrien thought that the love/hate thing between Draco and Hermione got a little tedious. But I disagree. I love them like that! They'll never truly get along; who wants a relationship where you're always sweet and kind? That would get so boring. I see Draco and Hermione as two very proud people with different ideals; they are going to clash, often.  
  
Things are left somewhat unresolved between them because is any relationship really resolved? Things just keep going on and on and we muddle through the best we can.  
  
Another reason why things aren't that resolved is because you have two people fighting against their emotions. Neither of them wants to fall in love, especially not with each other. That's why Draco is sweet one minute and then a complete ass the next; he doesn't know how to act.  
  
A few people have been confused by the together/not togetherness of them. Let me state, they have NEVER in this fic, been together. That is a very large step, which I don't think either of are up to taking just yet. Maybe in the sequel! ;-)  
  
And I just want to say thank you to everyone that has reviewed me! You guys really made this a wonderful experience. I can't even begin to thank you enough!  
  
A special thanks to Vegeta, my beta reader, for putting up with me, and to Kenzie as well, she always defended me! 


End file.
